Stepping into the Unknown
by Incomplete Stories
Summary: Sequel to Daily Morning Routine. There are some people who just make their way into your life without you even noticing, and then one day, you realize they've been there all along and you wouldn't have it any other way. Reid/OC
1. One of Those Days

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 1: One of Those Days**

* * *

**Author's Note: **This takes place after** Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle the barista, though.

* * *

Everyone has them, those mornings when, somehow, one can just tell the day isn't going to go their way. For the young Dr. Reid, it's the morning after the team's first case with Agent Rossi. Tuesdays are normally slow at the Java Tree Café and it has become a day that he started looking forward to because they get to talk.

As Reid walks in, he's racking his brain for possible conversation starters, he always gets tongue tied by the time he arrives at the front of the line. He doesn't even look up until he hears a male's voice asking him what he wants. For a second he wonders if he walked into the wrong shop by mistake, he stares blankly at the acne-ridden youth on the other side of the counter.

"Hey, buddy, what do you want? I've got other people waiting."

"Oh, err, yes. Sorry. Large black coffee and a raspberry scone, please. Also, would you happen to know where the girl who normally works this shift is? Her name's Michelle? Short black hair? Wears glasses and..."

"I know who she is. No idea where she is, all I know is I have to cover this stupid shift for her. Next!"

Spencer pays, takes his order and walks out heading for the subway station, trying to figure out what just happened. Surely Michelle would have mentioned it if she was leaving her job, they are friendly acquaintances after all and she wouldn't just leave her favorite customer as she calls him. For a moment, he worries about what might have happened, he knows that his line of work often leads him to expect the worst, but he's probably wrong; after all, the chances of being victim of a violent crime in DC are 1 in 75. This thought process follows him all the way into the train; he takes a bite of his scone only to realize that it is not a raspberry pastry but apricot. It is definitely not his morning.


	2. Cereals and Frozen Dinners

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 2: Cereals and Frozen Dinners**

* * *

**Author's Note: **This takes place after****** Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle the barista, though.

* * *

Once again the team's work day extended far longer than expected, the case they were called on was rather simple; three women who disappeared ten months apart from each other were found in shallow graves in a nursery, all three wearing similar wedding dresses and a fourth one matching the UnSub's type was also missing. They discovered that the Unsub used dating sites to lure his victims in and would poison them on their wedding night. Luckily for them, they managed to save the last victim and catch the UnSub alive, only to learn about five other victims...

After a day like that, the serenity of the 24hrs market is quite soothing to the tired, young genius, who feels quite fortunate that very few people seem to run their errands past 11pm. He stands in the cereals aisle, holding a box of Lucky Charms in one hand and Frosted Flakes in the other and weighs both options; Lucky Charms has the little marshmallows but Frosted Flakes have sugar on all the cereals, so if he's going to have to go without the glucose provided by his usual raspberry scone, which one would be the closest in sugar content.

"Doctor?"

He jumps at the unexpected voice, dropping both boxes. They both bend down to pick up the items and it takes Spencer half a second to realize that he knows that voice, but the person in front of him looks different than usual. The same black hair and glasses are present, but he normally barely sees the hair under the Java Tree cap of her uniform, and the vibrant purple knit shirt she has on is very much at odds with the black polo shirt and apron combo he sees her in most of the time. She picks up both boxes and apologizes for startling him, as she stands he sees her wince a little and his worries that something bad happened to her are suddenly back.

They stand face to face for a second, neither of them talking, he wants to ask her if she's alright or tell her that it's good to see her, but instead, his mouth decides to rebel against his brain and he simply blurts out.

"Have you always been that short? You seem taller at work."

She stares at him for a second, as he mentally kicks himself, a smile creeps to her lips and suddenly she's laughing. He tries to ignore the little pull inside his heart that her laughter causes while trying to figure out if she's laughing at him or not. She puts her hand to her mouth and takes a moment.

"Yes, I've always been that short. There's a platform behind the counter at work that adds a good three inches so we can see the room even if there's a line of customers..."

"You weren't at the Java Tree this morning." He interrupts her, without really meaning to, which seems happen more often than not in both his professional and personal life.

"Yeah, I had to get my appendix removed over the weekend, won't be able to work for at least another week. I hope you won't miss me too much... I mean, 'you' the customers, of course."

Spencer puts one of the cereal boxes in his cart without paying much attention to which one it is. Somehow, instinctively, they start walking through the market together, she asks him what he's doing there that late and tells her a bit about the case they just finished without going into the details. When they first started talking in the mornings, she asked him about what he did for a living and for a little while he give her somewhat graphic summaries of the cases they worked on, until one day when she asked him to stop because it was giving her nightmares. They make their way through the store slowly, Michelle just finished a book he recommended to her about two weeks ago and they debate the actions of the hero. In the frozen food aisle, he helps her get some of the single portion meals that she can't reach due to her stitches. He comments about how frozen entrées are most expansive and less nourishing than their fresh counterparts and she admits that she "can't cook to save her life." Finally, they head toward the only opened checkout line, where the cashier assumes they are together as she scans Spencer's Frosted Flakes and Michelle's frozen carbonara pasta until they both interject at the same time. He waits as she pays and offers to carry her bags.

"I'm fine, thank you." She smiles as they head outside. "It was really nice bumping into you, Doctor."

"You know, you can call me Spencer." He blushes a bit, very glad that it probably isn't too visible in the dark.

"Well then, good night Spencer." She turns around and heading toward the intersection, he watches her for a moment before starting to walk away himself. A few second later, he turns around as he hears his name called; she's heading back toward him with a determined look on her face.

"I was wondering, would you... maybe... like to get a coffee sometime?"

"I get coffee every day..."

"I meant together. Would you like to get a coffee together sometime?"

He just stares dumbfounded for a second, why is his mouth so dry suddenly? He passes his hand through his hair and nods, not trusting his voice at the moment. He takes a breath before answering.

"Yes. I would like that very much."

She bites her bottom lip as she smiles, her cheeks reddening too. She asks for his phone number and he gives her his one of his cards, she then asks for a second card and writes down hers.

Reid isn't sure how he's made it back to his apartment, he puts his groceries on the kitchen counter and sits next to them. He takes the tiny piece of paper out his pocket and gently runs his fingertip over it.

Somehow, tonight, he, Dr. Spencer Reid, got a girl's number.


	3. Cold Night Air

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 3: Cold Night Air**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle the barista, though.

* * *

Reid walks out of the hospital and leans against to wall, trying to clear his head. He thinks to himself that this can't be happening, that can't be right, as he passes his fingers through his hair. He takes deep breaths of the cold night air and tries to calm himself. The others are still inside, but he needed to be alone for a moment. How could anyone do something so horrible to someone so nice? Despite what they see day in and day out, this is different; it's someone he knows, someone he sees everyday, someone who's part of his life.

He rests his head against the brick wall and his hands find their way into his pockets; his fingers come in contact with a piece of textured paper. He doesn't remember putting the card into his pocket, but there it is in the palm of his hand. He already knows the number on the back by heart, eidetic memory has its advantages after all. Like in a daze he reaches for his phone and dials, not taking into account the late hour or the fact that this probably isn't why she gave him her number in the first place. The ringing brings him back to reality and he's about to hang up when a sleepy voice comes on the line.

"...Hello?" He definitely had not thought that plan through. "Hello? Is there anyone there?"

"Err... Hi Michelle, it's Spencer... you know from the coffee shop? I'm not exactly sure why I'm calling you... and also, sorry for the late hour... I hadn't realized... Sorry... You were probably asleep..." He can tell he's rambling, and probably not making any sense when she speaks up.

"Are you okay? You sound really shaken." The concern in her voice is unmistakable.

"A friend of mine... a member of our team..." He stops to take a breath, somehow telling someone else about it, make it feel more real. He adds in a whisper. "...she got shot tonight."

"Is she gonna be alright?"

"The doctor says she should be able to go home in a few days. I just can't believe someone would do that to her." He stops himself before starting to ramble about how Garcia should be a low risk target for such a crime and therefore, it's illogical that someone should have taken the chance to attack her just to steal her purse. "As I said, I'm not sure why I called you. I apologize."

He passes his free hand through his hair, pulling at it a little, mentally kicking himself again from dialing that number.

"Hey, don't worry about it. That's what friends are for right? Helping through bad times."

He can be barely believe what he's hearing. He lets out a sigh of relief before thanking her and apologizing again. She tells him that if he needs to talk, to feel free to call and maybe they can met somewhere. He wishes her a good night, she tells him she wishes for his friend to be back on her feet promptly and that, despite how cliché it must sound, she's certain everything will turn out alright. He hangs up and looks up at the night sky, he knows stars are simply massive, luminous balls of plasma held together by gravity and that some of the ones he can see are already dead or dying; his thoughts drift back Penelope in that hospital bed, he imagines she would tell him to stop ruining their beauty with such sad facts.

He pushes himself off the wall, and walks back inside feeling a little calmer. He sits by J.J. and looks around at the rest of his team, his family, and he can't help but think that maybe what she said is true; maybe everything will turn out alright. Penelope will be okay, and they will find the person who dared attack one of their own!


	4. Distraction

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 4: Distraction**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle the barista, though.

* * *

He sits in the back of the vehicle with J.J. as Morgan drives Garcia back to the hospital, the death of the UnSub was unfortunate turn of event, but everyone made it out safely and at the end of the day that all one can really focus on. He's looking past the beautiful blonde next to him and out the window, not really paying much attention to what is being discussed.

"So what do you think Spence?"

"Sorry, what?" He turns his focus back to his teammates, frowning a little as he tries to figure out what was the question referring to.

"Wow, you really were miles away, man. J.J. and I are going to get something to eat after bringing this one back to the hospital, do you wanna join us?" Morgan adds, looking at him in the rearview mirror.

"Oh, no thanks, I'm pretty tired, I think I'll just head home. Did you know that both the Three Mile Island and Chernobyl meltdowns, as well as the Exxon Valdez oil spill and the Space Shuttle Challenger disaster have all been attributed to the poor judgment of sleep deprived workers." Reid feels awful about lying to them, but he is not ready to admit to anyone the one thing he truly feels like doing when he gets back into the city.

For the rest of the ride, he makes sure to stay concentrated on the conversations. Keeping something to yourself is definitely one of the main problems when the majority of your time is spent with profilers.

"Thanks for the ride. See you guys tomorrow."

The car barely has time to stop before he gets out, not even giving enough time for his two colleagues to reply. As soon as he's out of view from the vehicle, his cell phone is out of his pocket and he's shakily dialing. As it rings he can't help but wonder how he's gotten so, how would you say that, distracted by her; until recently he had acknowledged to himself that she is quite nice and rather funny and, according to some, she could be considered aesthetically pleasing, but not to the point of feeling like his heart was trying to escape his chest when he thinks about her... Not that it was how he currently felt, of course!

"Hello?"

"Hi, Michelle, it's Spencer." He swallows hard and tries to calm his nerves before adding. "I was wondering if there would be some way for me to make up to you for calling in the middle of the night. Coffee maybe or, I don't know, if, you know, you haven't had dinner yet, we could go somewhere... together?"

It's probably only takes her a few seconds before answering but to Reid it feels like an eternity. He's not the type to put himself out there, especially when it comes to matters of the heart, if she refuses will they still be friends? Will he have to find a new place to get his morning coffee? What did he just do...

"I'd love go to dinner somewhere." From her tone of voice, he can tell she's smiling at the other end and he can't help smiling too, actually it requires a bit of self control to not do a little victory jump. "I don't know what kind of food you like, but we could met at Miles' Dinner, if you're in the neighborhood, in say half an hour?"

"That sounds great. I'll see you there!"

It takes him less than five minutes to get to the restaurant, he sits in a booth fidgeting nervously, his legs shaking under the table. He's wouldn't consider himself vain but in that moment, he wonders if maybe he shouldn't have gone home to change first, if he should remove the gray vest he has on and just keep the shirt and tie... He goes to the bathroom twice to check his hair and make sure he doesn't have anything stuck in his teeth. He unrolls and rerolls his sleeves before unrolling them again. Finally he decides to get out one of four books he keeps around in his messenger bag for light reading. Despite his best efforts, he can't concentrate, his head snapping up every time a new patron comes in and his reading speed diminishes to a mere 5,000 words per minutes.

The door opens again, and this time it is her, he stands up so fast that his knee hits the table. He walks up to her and she smiles as she spots him. They stand there, just smiling at each other for moment, until they realize they're blocking the door. She giggles nervously as they move out of the way and head for the table.

"Thanks for inviting me."

"Thank you for not being angry that I misused your phone number by calling you at 1 O'clock in the morning."

She waves it off and tells him not to worry about it before asking how his friend is doing and if they caught the person who shot her.

"We did; it turns out that guy was an Angel of Death with a Hero Homicide Complex who was working as a Deputy Sherriff, even though he told Garcia that he was a city attorney, which is an obvious sign of narcissism. Unfortunately, Garcia had flagged his fills in the Bureau's system, because she wanted to make sure that they got solved, for the families of the victims from her support group and... I'm rambling on, am I not?"

She laughs, nodding her head. "Just a little. It's fine, it's always nice to see someone whose passionate about what they do."

The waiter comes over to take their orders; he gets the fish and chips dinner special, she chooses cinnamon French toasts, which amuses him.

"What can I say, I can't resist a main course that is pretty much just a big dessert. What were you reading?" She nods toward the book he had left on the table.

"It's an encyclopedia of medical anomalies and oddities written in 1896 by Dr. George M. Gould. It's truly fascinating, but probably not the type of thing I should start rambling on about over dinner."

"So, kinda like the type of things you'd see at the Mütter Museum?" She asks before taking a sip of her Ginger Ale. He is genuinely surprised at the question, the young woman sitting in front of him doesn't look like someone who would even know what the Mütter Museum is and much less what it contains.

"You've been to the Mütter Museum? I don't want to sound rude, but you really don't seem like the type of person who'd be interested in that sort of stuff."

"I haven't made it there yet, but I'd love to. As for not looking like the type, I guess it's the same way you didn't strike me as a F.B.I. Agent when you first started coming to the café. You might just need to get to know me more to see what 'type' I am."

He nods in approval as their food arrives. He watches her body language as they keep talking and, unless he is just seeing what he wants to see, she is giving off some of the tell-tale signs of flirting and attraction; she laughs a little too loud at one of his very poor attempts at humor (which he really needs not to try ever again) she keeps eye contact for longer than necessary and she plays with her hair despite its shortness.

They keep talking all through dinner about everything and nothing; she asks about his PhD, and he explains that it's PhDs actually and reveals his 'genius status' which he hadn't really wanted to bring up, fearing she would look at him differently if she knew, but on the contrary she seems genuinely impressed. He learns that her parents separated when she was 14 and that she hates the term 'broken home'. They both have a sweet tooth and tend to prefer snack food to real one. She loves the cold and dislikes it when the weather goes over 85. He tells her a little about growing up in Las Vegas, and she admits having never thought about the fact that some people actually live there. She inquires why he wears his watch over his shirt and he rambles on for a good ten minutes about hyper sensitivity and its possible correlation to someone being gifted.

When the waiter comes with the check, he makes sure to pay, despite the fact that she tells him he doesn't need to. As they walk out, he opens the door for her. They walk side by side, heading toward her apartment just a few blocks away, neither of them talks but the silence doesn't feel awkward, it mostly feels like two people simply enjoying each other's presence. They stop in front of a small, four apartments building. She's standing close to him; she smells sweet and faintly soapy. She looks up at him, adjusting her glasses, her deep brown eyes looking straight into him. He's pretty certain she's waiting for him to do something, but he can't, for the life of him, figure out what it is he's supposed to do. He feels like electricity is going through his body as her fingers gently capture his wrist, her thumb brushing lightly against the fine skin just below his cuff.

"I had a great time tonight."

"So did I."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning for your coffee?"

"Absolutely."

She lets go of his wrist but, somehow, he can still feel her touch. She climbs up the few steps to her porch and turns back to look at him.

"Goodnight Spencer."

"Goodnight Michelle."

She unlocks the door, give him one last look and walks in. He stands there for a moment as the door closes behind her. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and slowly makes his way home replaying the evening in his mind.


	5. Clichés and Messages

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 5: Clichés and Messages**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

The next morning he stops by the Java Tree for his coffee, everything, to a bystander, would seem perfectly inconspicuous but for Reid, there are important changes. First of all, when Michelle hands him his large black coffee he makes the daring move, at least daring for him, to, lightly, caress her fingers as she passes him the cup. Then, she tells him that a local movie theater is showing all the Star Trek movies starting that evening and asks if he would like to go, which he accepts without any hesitation, before realizing that it might be impossible with his work schedule, but tells her he will call her to confirm. Lastly, as he leaves, instead of her usual: "Have a good day at work, Doctor." She smiles and says, "Have a good day at work, Spencer."

It might be that he's smiling a little more than usual or maybe his body language reflects how great he feels despite his best effort to keep himself in check, but as soon as he walks into the BAU that morning comments start flying his way.

"Well, someone has extra pep in their step this morning," comments Emily.

J.J. teasingly asks him if he's finally received that obscure textbook he was telling her about to be in such a good mood. But, of course, the comment that almost makes him flinch in embarrassment is when Morgan walks into the briefing room as everyone else is settling down and goes:

"You're right, Prentiss, it does look like young Dr. Reid here got lucky last night!" He teases, ruffling Spencer's hair. "Out with it Pretty Boy, who's the lucky lady?"

"What? No! No, I didn't... there's no lady..." He looks pleadingly around the table, unfortunately to find everyone staring back with various levels of interest and curiosity. He feels his cheek burning and quickly retreats behind the files in front of him. "Can we please get on with the briefing and leave my personal life, or lack thereof out this? Please?"

There's no more talk of his love life, which he never really thought that he'd have enough of one to deserve talking about, once the briefing is over. They're flying to California on a gruesome case of murders with dismemberment; he sits at the back of the plane, staring out of the window. He truly enjoys flying; it is, in his opinion, one of the most relaxing modes of transportation. A coffee mug is placed in front of him, and he looks up as Prentiss sits in the opposite seat and apologetic look on her face.

"Hey, I just wanted to say, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean for Morgan to tease you when I said you looked extra peppy this morning. I figured coffee would probably be a fine way to make up for it."

"Thanks Emily." He gives her a smile that says 'Don't worry, it's all good.', she smiles back before standing up and walking back to her seat.

The rest of the day goes by without incidents, he manages to stay focus on the tasks at hand and not on thinking about how wonderful she smelled or how beautiful she looked standing on her stoop bathed in moonlight... Bathed in moonlight? When did he even start thinking in such cheesy clichés. The team goes out for dinner and he finds himself ordering French Toasts; looking at his watch tells him he should getting ready for Star Trek: The Motion Picture right about now. He excuses himself, and heads to the men's room. He gets out his phone and texts: 'Hey, it's Spencer. I won't be able to make it tonight, we're in California on a case. I'm sorry about the late notice. Enjoy the movie.' He's walking back to their table when his text message alarm rings. 'I'll just have to eat popcorn for two, I guess! Good luck with the case!' He smiles as he flips it closed.

After dinner, everyone heads back to the hotel. He sits on his bed, with his phone in his hand, considering if it's too late to call. He sighs, puts his cell on the bedside table and heads into the shower.

Almost half an hour later, he's rummaging around his go-bag, a towel around his midsection and other sitting precariously on top of his head, looking for a pair of underwear when a little flashing light brings his attention back to the bedside table. He flips the phone open and dials the password to his voicemail.

"Hey, it's me, Michelle. Just got out of the movie theater and I figured I'd give you a call to see if you were still awake. Guess not. You missed quite the fun evening, by the way, not only didn't you get to enjoy my company." She laughs. "Quite the big loss, I know. But, there were three people there tonight dressed up as Spock, McCoy and Kirk, so that too was pretty cool. Anyway, huh, I guess I was just calling to say good night so, well, good night!"

He saves the message, closes his eyes and sighs. He gets dressed for bed and then sits at the little desk by the window; he pulls out a piece of paper and begins his daily letter to his mother and tonight, Spencer Reid writes to his mother about the pretty black-haired girl he likes who seems to like him back.


	6. Special Request

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 6: Special Request**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He makes it home from the California case in the early evening and calls her as he steps into his apartment. They agree to meet at a quarter to 8 at the movie theater for the second evening of the festival, The Wrath of Khan. That gives him an hour and a half to refill his go-bag, start a load of laundry, have dinner, shower and agonize over what is an appropriate second date outfit... (Is this a second date? Well, it's as close to one as he ever had, so...)

Although, by the time he gets to that last item on his list, he barely has five minutes left before he has to leave if he doesn't want to be late and ends up grabbing the first shirt and sweater available, which turn out to be a light blue plaid shirt and his trusted grey sweater, a pair of black slacks, his white Converse and a brown jacket. As he heads out, he grabs his messenger bag and his purple scarf and out the door he goes.

She's already there when he arrives; he takes a second to look at her before walking up to her. She looks around the street, trying to locate him, biting her lips nervously as she does. He doesn't understand how someone like her got interested in someone like him, but as Garcia once told the team, they must have some good karma accumulated for catching the worst of humanity day in, day out. He makes his way toward her, and she toward him as soon as she sees him.

They stand in line for the tickets behind a group completely dressed up as some of the series' main characters. She whispers in his ear, inquiring if he would be embarrassed if she asked them for a picture. Reid shakes his head, and answers that on the contrary, he'd actually really like to get a copy of the picture if they agree; which they do. He stands there, with his arm around Michelle's shoulders, Mr. Spock, Scotty and Uhura to his right and Captain Kirk, Dr. McCoy and a Generic Red Shirt to her left as the usher takes the picture with Michelle's camera. There's something rather amazing about that moment, not only does the girl at his side know Star Trek, but she's just as excited about it as he is; Garcia might be on to something with her stories of karma. They thank the group before heading into the small theater.

"I will definitely need a copy of that picture!"

"You've got it."

They sit near the back of the darken room, as the movie plays he risks some quick glances at her. She catches him doing it and giggles as he acts as if nothing happened which gets her a loud shush from the Klingon a few rows down. Toward the end of the movie, as Captain Spock melds his mind with Dr. McCoy before heading to his death, he sees Michelle's chin shaking badly, her eyes filled with tears, she's biting her bottom lip to try and keep herself from crying. Instinctively, his hand finds hers in the darkness and he laces their fingers together, they share a look for a moment, it's like she's asking him if he minds her crying, he gives her hand a light squeeze. She rests her head against his shoulder and sobs silently.

They walk back to her apartment, hands in hands, they haven't let go since they left the theater. She apologizes twice for leaving a wet spot on his sweater, he dismisses it by telling her, he was doing his best to keep a straight face, and if she hadn't been there he might have cried just as much which makes her smile. This time he walks up the stairs with her, they're standing in front of the door, and all he wants to do is kiss her, he leans in, she leans forward, but at the last second he chokes and kisses her cheek instead.

After that, they call or text every evenings, unfortunately unable to see each other due to two overnight cases back to back. He's able to play it normal at work and luckily for him, it seems no one on the team is paying much attention to his behavior anyway.

He's lying on the bed in his hotel room, an arm under his head, his cell phone at his ear. Her laughter echoes in his head as she finishes telling him about something funny that happened to her at work that morning.

"Hey, speaking of the Java Tree," she hesitates a moment and he can hear her taking in a deep calming breath before continuing. She usually sounds quite confident when they're talking, and that change in character, put all his senses on alert. "Tina and Josh, the owners, are finally tying the knot this weekend and, huh, I was wondering, if you're in town of course, if you'd be my plus one?"

He accepts faster than is probably appropriate, which makes her chuckle at the other end. She gives him the details, and he offers to pick her up. She says she can't wait to see him, and he replies that hopefully they'll be able to solve this case fast and he'll be able to see her before Saturday morning.

Unfortunately, that proves to be impossible. They end up heading back to Quantico on Friday afternoon. He and J.J. are the only ones still awake on the flight back which he finds extremely fortunate. He walks over to her as she pours herself a cup of coffee.

"Hey J.J., could I ask your help with something?"

"Sure. What's going on?"

"I'd rather this stayed between us, if you don't mind. I really don't want everyone else knowing."

She nods and crosses her heart with her finger. He checks behind him to make sure everyone is really asleep, before whispering: "Well, huh, I've been seeing someone for a couple of weeks and..." She interrupts to say how happy she is for him. "...she's great and really nice and quite pretty too... but I diverge. So, she asked me if I could accompany her to her bosses' wedding this weekend and I said yes, of course, but I've never been anyone's..." He can't bring himself to say 'date', it just feels to foreign in his mouth, he gesticulate for a moment and settles for 'plus one'. "And I wanna make sure I do everything right... Could you give me some tips on, I don't know, how to be normal so that I don't embarrass her."

The blonde shakes her head, smiling and ruffles his hair.

"Spence, she wouldn't have asked you to be her date, if she wanted you to be someone else. How long have you two known each other anyway?"

He explains that he's known Michelle as a friendly acquaintance, or maybe even a casual friend, for close to three years now, that he admitted to himself that he might have had a small crush on her for almost a year and that when he is with her, he even forgets that what he's feeling is simply due to heighten levels of serotonin, norepinephrine, phenylethylamine and dopamine in the brain. J.J. puts her hand on his arm and he stops talking.

"You'll be fine, Spence. Don't worry about it. Just go, be yourself and have fun!"

She walks past him, heading back to her seat. He does the same and as he stares out at the clouds outside, he crosses his fingers that she's right.


	7. Wedding Favor

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 7: Wedding Favor**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

Saturday morning, he gets in his car and drives the few short minutes between their apartments. He's a little early, probably because he's been awake since 6 am. He parks in front of her building, gets out and attempts to lean against the car, looking cool like they do in movies. Unfortunately for him, it's harder than it looks and he wonders how Morgan manages to make it look so easy.

She steps outside and he's positive his heart stops for a second; she wears a simple, slightly fitted coral dress and has her hair in finger waves. She carries a pair of short heels sandals in one hand, which draws his attention to the pink sneakers she's wearing, and a gift bag, probably for the happy couple, in the other.

"You look beautiful."

"Thank you. You look pretty great yourself!" She looks at him up and down, nodding in approval. "Nice car by the way."

He opens the door and lets her in. That's when he notices them; two tattoos. He didn't even know she had any; one looks like a banner with some text on her right calf and the other, between her shoulder blades, is a light blue fleur-de-lis that seems to be made of lace. Definitely, she is full of surprises. He settles in the driver seat, but before starting the car, he looks at her and she's staring at him.

"What? Do I have something in my teeth?"

"You're wearing your glasses." He freezes, she interrupts him as he starts saying he does have his contacts in his bag. "No, no. I really like your glasses. I just didn't know if I had told you that."

"You did actually." He turns the key and puts the car in drive. "Last February on the 21st."

"It's truly incredible that you can remember all that. I can barely remember what I had for lunch yesterday."

"Eidetic memory has its advantages." He doesn't mention that for him to remember conversations or audio cues, it requires a heighten level of focus on the subject.

"Thank you again for being willing to come. I know it was last minute and all."

"I'm really glad you asked me."

The wedding is about forty-five minutes away, at a B&B in Virginia. The ceremony space is set in the bed & breakfast's garden, as they walk toward it, Michelle takes his hand in hers. It feels surprisingly natural. As they approach, a few of her colleagues come over and to say Hi, she introduces him as Spencer and he realizes how long it's been since anyone introduced him by his first name, not Reid, or Doctor, or Dr. Reid, just Spencer. He feels slightly awkward and out of place but her presence at his side calms him.

The ceremony is quite lovely, the bride and groom seem incredibly happy and in love and he finds it refreshing to see some good in the world. Next to him, Michelle gets rather emotional, after seeing her during the Wrath of Khan, he figured she would be, and pulls out the small packet of tissues he had in his pocket. She smiles at him, through the tears, and dries her eyes.

After the ceremony, they're directed to the reception space. Food is serve as people walk around and mingle. One of the other baristas he's seen before comes over to talk, Michelle introduces her as Allison; she's a tall brunette who smells strongly of clove cigarettes. She asks if she can borrow his date for a minute and he replies that he has no say in who Michelle talks to.

Michelle looks over her shoulder at him as Allison takes her a little farther away, what she seems to think is out of earshot.

"Alli, that was rude!"

"Sorry, sorry. You know me, when I get excited about something there's nothing to hold me back! Now, tell me what's going on here!"

He watches as Michelle looks down at her feet, blushing a little. Is she embarrassed about something?

"You know very well what I'm talking about missy! I can't believe you came here with B.B. over there."

"His name is Spencer." Michelle replies with a bit more self-assurance. "And yes, I asked him to be my date!"

Allison laughs and pats the other girl's shoulder before heading over to an other group of people. Michelle heads back toward him, and his face must show that he heard everything since the first words out of her mouth are: "I'm sorry. Allison is ridiculously rude."

He waves it off, despite the fact he's feeling embarrassed and wishes he was anywhere but where he stands right now; he does mention that B.B. is a very unoriginal nickname since he's been called that by bullies for most of his early school life. She raises an eyebrow.

"What do you think B.B. means?"

"Big Brain, of course."

Suddenly, she's laughing and he's confused. She shakes her head No, but needs a moment before calming down.

"I'm sorry, dear genius, but you are incredibly wrong this time."

He asks what it means, wasn't Allison just mocking her for coming here with him just a minute ago? She takes his hands and strokes the back of them with her thumbs.

"No, she wasn't. She was teasing me, for finally having the guts to ask you out." She blushes as she continues. "As for B.B., it's a silly nickname the other baristas and I have been using for you before I learned your name. One morning, when you first started coming by the coffee shop, I told Tina 'Gosh he's such a beautiful boy!' and it stuck."

Now, he's the one blushing!

He's unsure when the music started playing but people started taking to the dance floor; Michelle and him stay to the side, sitting at one of the tables. As the reception progresses, the music slows down and the couples get closer. That's when she stands and extends her hand, he just looks at her for a moment; surely, she can't be asking what he thinks she's asking.

"Dance with me, Doctor."

His mouth is ready to refuse, to tell her he really doesn't dance, that he'll probably just step on her toes, but his body decides otherwise; he stands and takes her hand. She leads him onto the dance floor, before getting rather close to him; her right hand still in his, the other wrapping itself around the back of his neck. His free hand rest on her waist, probably a little too high, but he worries what his body might do if he puts it any lower. He can feel her body against his, her head resting on his chest. Her fingers play with his hair and he tries his best not to shiver at the touch. She's humming along to the music and he can almost feel the vibrations. He relaxes a little and pulls her closer. They're in their own private world and it feels wonderful. He can't tell if the song last two minutes or an hour, all he knows is that it ends way too quickly.

Later that night, he drives her home and walks her to her door. He says he had a great time and thanks her for inviting him, she tells him she's glad and that she really enjoyed herself too.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course." He nods.

"Would it be okay if I kissed you?"

His brain takes a second to register the question and he ends up answering: "Is that hypothetical or is it an actual possibility?"

She laughs, her cheeks a little redder than normal, and replies that it all depends on his answer.

"I'd like that."

With that, she gets on tip-toes, her arms around his neck as his clumsily reach for her waist. Her lips touch his and he now understands what they mean in novels when they talk about fireworks. One of his hands leave her waist to cradle her face, her fingers through his hair feels electrifying. He pulls her closer to him; she tastes like champagne and wedding cake and feels just absolutely incredible pressed against him like this. For a second, he thinks about the kisses he shared with Lila and he tries to understand why both are so different. Maybe because after a while he realized he was mainly physically attracted to the blonde starlet or it might be because he's known Michelle for more than 48hrs. He forces his brain to stop over-thinking and just enjoys what is happening.

When they break apart, they're both breathless. Her eyes are shining behind her glasses and he's pretty certain his must be as well; his heart is thumping in his chest and he can tell he's grinning like a loon.

"Wow!" Despite his enormous vocabulary, that's all he's really able to come up with to explain how the kiss felt. His brain as well as his glasses seem slightly foggy.

"Good night, Spencer." She says, a flirtatious smile on her lips, as she unlocks the door.

"Wait!" She turns around; he passes his hand in his hair and rests it on his neck while the other gesticulates frantically as he speaks. "I might not have mentioned before, but I'm not quite well versed when it comes to... things like this. Does this mean we're... dating?"

She doesn't answer verbally, instead she kisses him again and he decides to take that as a yes!


	8. Sensory Overload

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 8: Sensory Overload**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

His mother was right; when you're ready, the right kind of girls will find you. It seems to have taken him 26 years, but she found him. He rolls his shoulders and stretches a little, before turning over, his face resting against his pillow.

Sunday is a wonderful day, when they don't get to called in to work anyway, because it's the one day of the week that he leaves blank of any scheduling; he gets to just lay in bed for as long as he want, he can read or listen to music, he can go anywhere, although he usually ends up spending the day in his apartment or around it. Sunday is 'Do as you please, Spencer' Day.

He reaches lazily for the book he started the night before; he didn't get past the second chapter because his mind kept bringing up their kiss. He picks up his glasses from his nightstand drawer and tries to concentrate on the book. When that doesn't work, he settles on daydreaming.

It's almost 1 O'clock when his phone rings; he beams as he sees the number on the caller ID.

"Hey!"

"Hi! I was wondering if you had plans for today?"

"No, my schedule is completely blank."

She asks if he would like to come over to her place, she proposes something simple like movies and delivery for dinner if he's interested. He accepts eagerly but mentions that he needs to run a quick errand first.

"Perfect! I needed enough the time for a quick shower..." Her voice cuts for a second, before she adds very fast sounding a little embarrassed. "That was too much information. Sorry about that."

It might have been too much information, but it sure sends his imagination on a whirl. He says it's okay, but somehow his voice sounds an octave too high; he clears his throat before asking if him arriving in half an hour would work for her and he wonders to himself when his apartment got so warm.

He checks his watch, making sure he's not too early. He makes his way to apartment 1A and knocks. She opens the door, and allows him into her home. As she closes the door, he takes in the living room. The walls are a deep auburn color and covered with everything for an unframed abstract painting to enlarged comic book covers and some cartoonish photo collages of colorful aliens-like creatures frolicking around black and white pictures of New York City. As for furniture, nothing seems to belong together, even the dinner table has four different chairs around it but somehow the whole is strangely cohesive. One thing that surprise him is the scent, there's this very distinctive sweet soapy smell in the air; he used to think it was her perfume, but it seems to be the way her apartment actually smells.

"Welcome to my home!" She says, extending her arm to show the room like it was some prize on a game show. She pushes herself on tip-toes and gives him a peck on the cheek, he blushes a little despite himself.

"Your apartment is very... you!" She gives him a questioning look, seemingly unsure if she should be flattered or insulted. "I, I meant that as a compliment; it's warm and welcoming and a little eclectic and those seem to be big parts of your personality."

"I see, well thank you then!" She takes a few steps away from the door, but he stays by the door. She cocks her head to side. "Are you gonna stand there all afternoon?"

"I was just wondering if you prefer for your guests to keep their shoes on, or..."

"It's up to you really, I'm personally a firm believer in letting toes breath." She wiggles hers as if to prove her point.

He puts down the bag he's been holding on a small bench by the door and he proceed to take off his shoes, revealing a neon blue striped sock and an orange one with black cats on it. He places both shoes by door neatly and picks his bag.

"I was told never to arrive to someone's house empty-handed, so I stopped by the market and got us snack food." He feels a little embarrassed, he has been told quite often that he lacks social grace and he hopes this was the right thing to do. Judging by her reaction, he had a good idea; she mentions she has some pop corn and ice cream, but with all this they can have an entire snack feast. She takes the bag into the kitchen, and asks if he'd like anything to drink; he thanks her, but he doesn't need anything. He stand awkwardly in the living room, it feels really intimate to step like that into someone else's living space.

The slight awkwardness relieves itself as soon as a movie is put into the player, she sits close to him and his nerves relax. The movie doesn't keep their attention for long though, after just a few minutes, he feels a compulsion to have her closer.

"Dr. Spencer Reid!" She's laughing so hard it takes her a moment before even be able to finish her sentence, her face in comically overdone offended expression. "Did you just 'yawn-and-arm-over-the-shoulders' me?"

He throws his hands in air in surrender, playing along; his smile extending from ear to ear.

"In my defense, it always works in the movies and also, I don't think can be blamed for wanting to be a little closer to you."

She blushes and he finds it hard to believe how lovely she looks or that he's the one causing this reaction in her. He's just about to mention some fact about the physiology of blushing and the fact that humans only start blushing when the conscience develops, but instead he just leans in and kisses her, and just like that movie is forgotten.

He's quite uncertain when they went from sitting to lying down on her couch, he also has no recollection of even removing his jacket but somehow it got off his body and onto the floor. That's when it happens; the phone rings. He pulls away, breathless and sits back on his heels; he gives her an apologetic smile, with one hand he pushes his hair out of his face, the other reaching into his pocket and grabbing his phone. He glances at Michelle's flustered cheeks and all he wants to do is just silence the inopportune call, despite that he looks at the caller ID and much to his surprise, it's not his phone that's ringing.

"It's not mine."

Kind of in a daze, she blinks a few times before it hits her; she wiggles herself out from under him and takes out her phone.

"Crap! It's my mom."

He signals to take it as he tries to stand, only to find that his legs to be rather flimsy. She sits up on the couch and takes a deep, calming breath before answering.

"Salut maman, oui ça va. Désolée, mon téléphone était coincé dans ma poche. Oui. Hum-hum. J'sais bien, j'm'excuse. Hey m'man, j'peux tu te rappeler plus tard, j'étais occupée. Okay, okay, on s'parle plus tard. Moi aussi. Bye!" She hangs up and sighs. "I'm so sorry about that. She never calls normally, but I haven't phoned her in a few weeks and she was worried... What?"

"The blue fleur-de-lis tattoo, it makes sense now. You're French Canadian." He can't believe he didn't connect the two together earlier, she's really distracting him more than he thought, he'll have to watch that.

"Kinda, I'm a dual citizen actually. I was raised in Quebec City and my parents are Canadians, but I was born in New York."

"_Jus soli_," he says. "Did you know that of the world 'advanced economies' Canada and the United States are the only countries that observe birthright citizenship? Why was your mom travelling if she was in her third-trimester, that doesn't seem very safe?"

She explains that her father is a sound technician and the band he was working for when her mother found out she was pregnant, was about to leave on tour. He didn't want to leave his pregnant girlfriend behind and therefore, her mom traveled with them. They were going to go home to Quebec two weeks before her due date, but unfortunately she went into labor a little early. "...and voilà, April 1st, 1980, I popped out in New York City."

"You're older than me."

"Really?"

"Hum-hum!" He nods and points to himself. "October 12, 1980."

"Well, I guess that makes me a cougar then." She says with chuckle, her hand resting on his thigh. She elaborates as he frowns, trying to figure out how being older than him makes her a member of the big cats family. "You know, an older woman who's attracted to younger men."

After that, they decide to give the movie another chance; Michelle makes pop corn and as she sits, he puts his arm around her. It's all so surprisingly easy and normal, it's like he's done it a million times before. She pushes a strand of hair behind his ear and places a small kiss where it was which sends shivers through his entire body.

Later on, food is ordered, delivered and eaten. They talk, laugh and he finally asks her: "I have to ask, what is that smell?"

"What smell?"

"That kind of a soapy, sweet scent. At first, I thought it was your perfume, since I've been smelling it for years at the coffee house, but when I came in, I realized it's the scent of your apartment and I can't seem to figure out what it is."

"Oh that! I don't even smell it anymore, but here, let me show you." She stands and leads him down hall pass the kitchen and the bathroom. There are two doors, one is opened and he can see it's her bedroom, the other is closed and there's a post-it at Michelle's eye-level that says: 'Don't forget your goggles!'

She opens it and steps in, he follows closely; the olfactory overload is inevitable. He doesn't know what he was expecting but this wasn't it. In one corner of the room, sits a large wooden structure with three levels and filled with dark brown bottles; a perfume organ. The middle of the room is filled by a large work bench with a hot plate, multiple pots and pans and molds. The walls are covered with shelves filled bottles and other products.

"Welcome to my lab!" She says a large smile on her face. "The Java Tree is my second job, that's why I'm only there part-time for the morning shift. The rest of the time, I'm here; I hand make bath and body products and that I sell on the Internet. It might sound silly and it doesn't pay the bills, but it makes me happy."

"I think it's great." He can't believe that he's known her for years and seems to know so little about her, but he knows one thing; he's very much looking forward to discovering everything she's willing to share.


	9. Asking for Help

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 9: Asking for Help**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He sits alone as his kitchen table, his head between his knees, his hands pulling at his hair as he tries, and fails, to take deep calming breaths. What he witnessed today shook him to his core and the little nagging voice in the back of his head that keeps telling him he knows what to do to make it all better just won't go away. He tilts his head back and clenches his jaws, his phone is on the table and seems to be mocking him; he should call her, he shouldn't stay alone, but he doesn't want to tell her, not now... not ever really. They've only been together for a month, and he can't have her see him like this. He knows it's his pride talking, but he just doesn't want to take the chance of seeing disgust or pity in her eyes.

After a full hour of debating it, he caves in and calls.

"Hi there, are you back in town yet?" Her voice is soothing, it's full of happiness and he can see her smiling in his mind.

"Hey. Yeah, I am." She can tell something is wrong just by his voice and asks what's going on, if he's okay. "The case today didn't end well, and I, I really don't want to be alone tonight. Would you mind coming over?"

She agrees and says she'll be right there, and true to her word, the buzzer from the building's front door rings approximately 15 minutes later. As he opens the door to his apartment, he can tell she probably speed walked or even ran most of the way; her breath is short and her cheeks are a deep plum color.

Despite her visible physical discomfort, her eyes are locked on his. She reaches out and pushes his hair back to look at his face.

"Spencer, what happened?"

He walks to the couch and sits down, his hands hiding his face; he expects her to sit next to him, but instead she kneels on the floor in front of him that way getting a better view at his face despite his curtain of hair. She takes his hands away and holds them in hers.

"Tell me." She whispers like she doesn't want to scare a little wild animal.

His barrier cracks, he rests his forehead against hers; he takes back his left hand and places it on her neck, keeping her close. He says he can't tell her, he knows she gets nightmares when he does and she bravely replies that she can take it.

"I, I was trying to talk down the father of one of our victims from killing one of our UnSubs... the, the father was holding a shotgun and his daughter was screaming at him to kill her kidnapper, that he killed her friend. I tried, I..." His voice cracks and he can feel his eyes stinging, soon after he feels the warm tears going down his face. "I really tried, but... I thought I had gotten through to him, but he still... and afterward, all I could do was just, just stand there, you know. I was frozen."

He feels her hand on his cheek, and he risks looking at her, her eyes are filled with concern; it's almost as if she can tell there's more that he's not telling her.

"I keep seeing that kid's face as the shot is fired, over and over in my head, every time I blink, it's there. I want it to stop. I need it to stop."

He slides from the couch onto the floor next to her, she pulls him against her and for a while, no one speaks. She keeps him close and calmingly caresses his hair. When the sobs have subsided, he pulls away and looks at her; in that moment all he wants is to shut the world out and just stay here with her forever and that when he makes his decision. He can't keep her in the dark, it's like lying to her and he doesn't want to do that, but he can tell how emotionally involved in this relationship he is after only about a month; losing her now if the truth pushes her away will hurt, but if he doesn't and she learns about it later and leaves then, he can't imagine if he'll be able to take the pain.

"Mimi?" He remembers how surprised she was when he first called her that, telling him that the only other people in her life who use that nickname are her dad and sister; to everyone else, she's always been Shelley. He asked her if it was okay for him use that name (Especially after his own long speech when she called him 'Spence' and he told her how only his friend J.J. calls him that and that he would like to keep it that way; he still feels silly for making a big deal about it, but change is still something he has a lot of issues with.) and she told him, she really likes his way of saying it. "There's something I need to tell you.

"The main reason, why I didn't want to be alone tonight, is... well, last year, we were on case and I was kidnapped by the UnSub. He was a very mentally disturbed individual with an actual dissociative identity disorder; while one personality would torture me, the other did the best he could to keep me alive. Unfortunately, one of the ways he used to ease the pain was to inject me with dilaudid; a very strong, very addictive opiate. For the first time in my life, I could stop thinking; it felt like my brain would just stop its constant flow of information as well as all the reminders of what I see every day, it felt like even all the bad memories were not as hard to deal with anymore. That lasted for over two days."

"You got addicted?" Her voice is calm but pained. He looks at her, and her entire facial expression is more worried than disgusted or pitying.

He nods and tells her that he's been clean for 9 months now but...

"...tonight you got worried that you might slip." It's not a question, just an affirmation.

He nods again, wondering how she might know.

"I hope that doesn't change your opinion of me."

She shakes her and assures him that it doesn't, it's just one more information about him, but it doesn't change the big picture. She asks him if he's joined a support group.

"No, no one outside of my team knows about this, not even my mom and I tell her virtually everything."

She reveals that the addiction of choice in her family, on her father's side, is alcohol. She tells him about her grandfather who passed away from cancer a few years ago, but wouldn't let go until January 4th, because it was the day he was supposed to receive his 31st year sobriety chip. She mentions also her uncle who's been trying to fight the addiction for as long as she can remember, but still slips and needs people, mainly her father, to help him up again every once in a while. She says that's why she never touched drugs and rarely has more than two alcoholic beverages in an evening, because she knows that genetic plays a big part in someone's risks of getting hooked and that scares her. She lifts his chin and makes sure he's looking her straight in the eyes when she says: "I don't know about you, but I'm in this for the long haul; neither of us has to face the world alone anymore."

Spencer will look back on this night, years from now, and he'll pinpoint this as the exact moment when he fell in love with her.


	10. Another Hotel Room

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 10: Another Hotel Room**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He looks out the window of his hotel room, he can see the lights of the Strip in the distance. Even when he gets time off, he still ends up in hotel rooms. To his count, this year alone, he slept in a hotel bed 208 nights; 56.98% of his nights have been spent in some strange bed away from home. It didn't use to bother him, but now he can see how one could prefer a job with normal hours.

Over the last month, he wasn't able to be around as much as he would have liked. The cases just seemed to pile up, leaving barely anytime for anything else really. First, that sexual sadist case in Philly and then there was that really unpleasant moment stuck in a room with a serial killer during shift change.

He can see Michelle's face in his head when he told her about that, she looked terrified but there was still a little bit of admiration in her eyes, clinging to his every word as he explained how he was the one to defuse the situation and in that moment, he felt a little heroic.

After that they had that angel of death in Pittsburgh, and the one evening when it seemed like he actually could just go home and spend the evening with his girlfriend, Morgan had the brilliant idea that they should all go out. Since no one other than J.J. knows he's seeing someone, he had to accept; Michelle says that despite the fact she would like to be with him more often, she understand that his job gets in the way. He manages to see her the next two nights, luckily and finally makes it to a N.A. meeting. Then there's the Owen Savage case, which he's still getting over. Relating to an UnSub always makes him worry that this job has finally taken its toll on his sanity.

Now, Christmas as come and gone and he hasn't seen her in ten days. As usual, he flew here to be with his mom for the Holidays; she went up to Canada to be with her family. He told her very little about his mom and her situation, all she knows is that she lives in a long-term care facility, and he feels quite grateful that she didn't push the issue.

They exchanged gifts at the airport; they decided to opt for a small present each since they both needed to fly with them. He turns around and looks at the framed picture of them, with the Star Trek group, that currently sits on the bedside table, it's probably one of the best Christmas gifts he had in years. He hopes she's enjoying her 1930 edition of Le Fantôme de l'Opéra, he found at one of the little hole-in-the-wall used bookstore he likes; he saw it there and remembered it to be her favorite novel. He checks his watch, only an hour and a half before the end of the year on the East Coast, she said she'd call at midnight, that she wants to make sure his voice is the first one she hears to begin 2008; that made him smile, and after a day at the Sanitarium with his mother, he really needed it; his mom has been going through a bad episode since he arrived.

A knock at the door surprises him. He gets up, and stretches as he walks. He looks into the peephole and his eyes widen, he removes the chain on the door and opens it wide.

"Wha-what are you... what are you doing here?"

She stands in front of him, holding two party hats and what looks like a bottle of champagne. Her short, black dress hugs her curves that, along with her mischievous smile, are enough to send his confused mind straight in the gutter. She sneaks past him and into the room, pulling her suitcase behind her.

"I can't believe you're here." He says as he closes the door, before wrapping his arms around her.

"I realized that just talking to you wasn't going to cut it," she says, her face pressed against his chest. "I decided I wanted to be able to kiss my boyfriend at midnight. So, I hopped on the first flight to Vegas I could find, and here I am."

He shakes his head a little at her impulsivity; it's definitely not something he could ever do. He enjoys just holding her like this, her small frame fitting perfectly against him. She kisses his neck, and he has to bite his bottom lip to keep himself from making a rather undignified noise; she does it on purpose, knowing very well what that does to him.

She snuggles a bit closer to him under the covers as they watch the celebrations at Time Square on TV. He knows she used to live there before coming to D.C. and asks her if she ever went to see the ball drop, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back.

"Absolutely not. You couldn't pay me to go. While I was there, whenever there was a big holiday, I would just barricade myself in my apartment and try to block out the world. New York is crazy in general, but holidays are definitely the worst," she says, as she grabs the party hats from floor and places one on her head, which makes him laugh, until she wrestles him into the second one. "Come on, it's almost time!"

She gets up, and walks over to table, his eyes follow her around the room. She grabs the bottle of what turns out to be sparkling cider, which he is thankful for since one isn't supposed to drink alcohol while working on the 12 steps, she also takes the two glasses on top of the minibar; she puts everything on the bedside table before climbing back into bed. He sits up as they countdown the last few seconds of the year.

"3, 2, 1! Happy New Year!"

She pulls him in and kisses him. They break apart and she says, "this is absolutely better than a phone call!"

"I would have to agree!" He grins. "I have to say, I'm really, really glad you're here."

She serves two glasses of the sparkling cider and they toast to the start of a wonderful new year. His phone starts vibrating with texts from the team, everyone sending out their New Year wishes and he does the same; Michelle calls her family and friends, switching back and forth between French and English. She hangs from her last call and asks him: "So, what's going to be your New Year resolution?"

"Well, since only 8% of the population actually manages to achieve their resolutions during any given years, I find the odds to low to even bother making one."

"Really? I always achieve my resolution."

"I don't even have a statistic for how low the probability of that happening is."

"I have to admit, last year's resolution was to stay 5 feet 4." She laughs. "My dad always used to make the stupidest resolutions every year while I was growing up, so it kinda stuck with me."

He finds that to be excellent idea, and he decides that this year, he will make an exception and make a resolution.

"This year, I will keep my hair long." He says solemnly. "Shouldn't be too hard since I haven't had short hair since I defended my first thesis."

"Very good choice, sir. Well then, mine will be," she rests her forehead on her fist, feigning to be in deep thoughts, "to continue to be my amazing self all through the year!"

They keep talking some more, before deciding to go to sleep. As sleep claims him, he thinks to himself that is definitely going to be a happy year.


	11. Sharing the Secret

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 11: Sharing the Secret**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

"No really, I found my glasses here." He says as he opens the door for her. She walks in and takes a deep breath; she says that she just love the smell of a good thrift store. He just laughs, having gotten used to those kinds of strange affirmations over the past months. He finds it especially entertaining to see her at work now in the morning; he can always tell when she's stopping herself from saying something that most people might find strange. He just loves the fact that when they are together, they are very much themselves.

He walks slowly behind her as she looks through the books they keep at the front of the store. She grabs an old, used copy of Return of the King and mentions very excitedly that she's been looking for that specific edition for years to complete her series.

She strolls over to the clothes and as she starts looking around, he picks up a grey and black sweater vest. He tries it on over his button-down shirt and tie, but unfortunately, it's two sizes too big for him.

"Anyway, I don't think you need any more sweater vests, Dr. Reid!" He jumps at the chirpy voice behind him. Oh, God, no, not here, not now, is all he can think. He turns around and there she stands, smiling at him, Penelope Garcia in all her exuberance. "I should have guessed that you were the thrift store type! If I had known I would have made sure that we went shopping together sooner."

He clears his throat and adjusts his glasses, he quickly, and hopefully subtlety, looks up to Michelle who's still going through the racks.

"Well, shopping all by your lonesome isn't fun so, why don't I keep you company! I might even be able to add some color to your wardrobe." She puts her arm through his and starts pulling him forward.

That's when Michelle looks up and makes her way back toward him, a questioning look on her face. This isn't going to be good.

"Hum, Garcia... I'm... I'm not here alone."

The blonde looks back and forth between him and the short, black-haired girl who's just a few feet away now. Penelope's eyes grow bigger and her mouth opens to form an almost perfect 'O', she quickly pulls her arm back against herself.

"Oh, oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't expect... I mean, of course, it's possible... But I... I'm so sorry." She's talking at an impressively fast pace, her cheeks turning more red by seconds.

"Michelle, this is Penelope Garcia. We work together at the BAU."

"Nice to meet you! Spencer told me a lot about his team, over the years. It's nice to finally met one of you." Michelle says, putting her hand in his. In his head, he can already imagine the teasing and the ridiculous amount of questions he'll have to answer at work tomorrow.

Garcia is staring at him in disbelief. "Years? Reid, have you been hiding the fact that you have a girlfriend from us for years?"

Michelle explains that they've only been dating 3 months, but have known each other for years. He's having some difficulty making sense of what is happening, before he knows it, Michelle is paying for the book she found and a shirt and the three of them are headed to lunch.

As they sit down at a small Italian place Garcia said they just absolutely need to try, he can hear the girls talking but can't quite make out what it is they're saying and he just blurts out: "Garcia, please don't tell anyone at work."

Two pairs of eyes just stare at him, Garcia is frowning a little and Michelle looks slightly hurt. Despite the fact that he explained to her why he wants to keep this to himself and keep his work life and their life separate; he knows she thinks it's because he's ashamed of her, when in all honesty, all he wants is just to have this as his and his alone and not have to share it with the team.

He passes his fingers through his hair and rests his hand on his neck, sighing.

"You know how everyone gets when there's something new in anyone's life. Why do you think it took J.J. a year to acknowledge the fact she's dating Will?"

"Reid, I won't say anything if you don't want me too but..."

Garcia's sentence is interrupted by Michelle's incoming email alarm. She apologizes, pulls out her phone and sighs audibly.

"I'm gonna have to go, I'm so sorry."

"Is everything okay?" He looks up at her, as she's already on her feet gathering up her coat.

"Yeah, just an emergency order and it's a huge one; 120 wedding favors to be shipped by next weekend. I'll have to pull a few all-nighters if I want to get it all done." She says as she digs through her purse, trying to find her wallet to pay for her lunch.

"Don't worry about lunch; I'll take care of it. I'll come by later to drop it off and, if you want, I can help out for a while."

"Thank you! You're a lifesaver!" She kisses his cheek and he blushes, since Garcia is watching them seemingly quite interested by his interaction with his girlfriend. Michelle turns to her, she's speaking so fast that he easily picks up her French accent. "I'm really sorry for running out like this. You can ask Spencer, I'm normally not that rude, but it was great meeting you and I hope we'll get the chance to do this again at some point!"

His gaze follows her as she makes her way through the crowed restaurant, almost taking out two waiters on her way to the door. His attention is brought back to the table by Garcia's laughter.

"She's something else, isn't she? I like her." She takes a sip of water. "But I thought she said she was a barista, so, what was that about wedding favors?"

"Michelle does work as a barista, but she also has her own home business, she makes soaps and perfumes and bath products that she sells online."

"No way!" Suddenly Garcia is shooting questions at him; what's the name of the company? Her website? Does she make bath fizzies? Does she take fragrance requests? "I love that kind of stuff. That's it, Reid, I am going to make your girlfriend, my new best friend! Well actually, you know my silence you wanted to buy; maybe some samples would sweeten the deal, don't you think?"

She smiles, that typical Garcia smile and he can't help but chuckle.

"You've got a deal!" They shake hands as she tells him, that she wouldn't have told anyway. "I know, thanks Penelope. I really appreciate that. Oh, and please, don't run a background check on my girlfriend."

"That I can't promise, but don't worry, boy genius, your secret love story is safe with me!"


	12. Jars of Hearts

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 12: Jars of Hearts**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

It's only Wednesday and he already wishes the week was done, Hotch and him just got back from Roanoke. It's late and he just wants to get home and sleep, but luck isn't on his side. He walks through the parking lot, when a honking surprises him; he turns around and puts his hand over his eyes to keep himself from being blinded by the headlights.

"Hey Reid, need a ride home?"

Normally, he'd say no, he likes the train ride from Quantico to D.C., which is why he rarely drives to work, but now he finds himself just yawning and getting into the orange convertible.

"What are you doing here so late, Garcia?"

"I had protocols to update on my entire system, which took me four hours, but hey, you don't rush virtual perfection. Oh and, I meant to ask you, did you know your girlfriend used to be engaged?" She asks matter-of-factly.

Now, he sees what this little 'Let me give you a ride since it's so late' is actually about; he should have seen it coming really. Garcia has been ambushing him any chance she got and asking details about Michelle and their relationship since she found out, but true to her word, she didn't mention anything to the rest of the team. He knows why she asks those questions because, in her own ways, Garcia always try to protect everyone on the team but also just to tease him a little and for her silence, he's more than happy to pay the price.

"I do, the guy's name was Charles Tremont, he's a writer in New York City. They dated eight months, were engaged for three, until Michelle learned that Charles, who's actual last name is Johnson, was actually engaged to two other women, including one with whom he had a child. He's the reason she moved to D.C."

"Wow... that sucks!" She says, taking a curve a bit too fast for his taste. "So, I bet you've made big plans for next weekend, lover boy?"

She reaches out to pinch his cheek and he frowns at her, cocking his head to the side, trying to figure out what she's talking about. She gives him a quick disbelieving look, before turning her attention back to the dark road; she shakes her head.

"I would have thought a genius like you would be able to remember something simple like that, but I guess not. Next weekend is Valentine's Day!"

He feels his mouth fall open, that can't be right now can it? He checks the date on his phone, which confirms it. He sighs, closes his eyes and rests his head against the cool window, wondering out loud what he's gonna do.

Once again, the tech analyst proves herself to be a great friend; they spend the rest of the ride bouncing ideas of each other, they start out with rather normal ideas, like chocolate and roses (which Garcia nixes as too easy and too cliché) but it rapidly goes downhill from there, to things like Garcia's idea that he should fly them to Paris for weekend and they could drink champagne at the top of the Eiffel Tower.

He gets out of the car, and tightens his scarf around his neck. He leans in and thanks his colleague for the ride home.

"No worries, always glad to be of service. Tell that ridiculously talented girlfriend of yours I say 'Hi!' and that I am loving her 'Going Bananas!'" She says, smelling her wrist with a big smile on her face; he says he'll pass the message along. "Now, go plan your first Valentine's Day; it's something she'll remember for your entire relationship, so better make it amazing, boy wonder!"

She winks at him and pulls the passenger's door closed before driving off. He shakes his head, and mumbles to himself: "Yeah, no pressure at all..."

He doesn't even want to think about what it might mean about him or his relationship that he got his idea for their first Valentine's Day while looking at a crime scene photo of three skeletons in a shallow grave, but as they sit in his car, driving toward Philadelphia on Saturday morning, he feels rather proud of himself.

They talk for a good part of the way; for a while, Michelle just sings, very much out of pitch, along to a radio station claiming to only play 'The Best of the 80s' and a few songs makes him fear what the worst must have sounded like. She tries to bribe him into telling her where they're going but he won't budge.

"Come on, please?" She's tilting her head to the side and giving him her best 'puppy eyes' look.

"Patience, you'll see soon enough."

"Patience? You've seen me waiting in a line before; you know I have none of that what-so-ever."

He can't help but smile, it is true that isn't one of her strong points. He mentions that if his calculations are right, they are just about 44 miles away, after that she's on the lookout for any distance signs and they finally pass one, she turns to him.

"Spencer, why are we heading to Philly?" He takes a quick glance at her, her face light up like a child's on Christmas morning. "Are you taking me to The Museum?!"

He tries to play it cool, but a smile pulls at the corners of his mouth; she does a little dance of happiness in the passenger seat and tells him that if he wasn't driving, she'd kiss him. He tells her she can feel free to do that when they get to their hotel and she promises to do so. He finds it incredible how much more confident he feels since they started dating, it's especially true when they are together, but also sometimes at work he feels a lot more sure of himself and it's a great sensation!

It's about half past noon when they check into their hotel; Michelle is teasing him about the hat he grabbed from the trunk since it started snowing. They drop off their overnight bags and hand in hand, make their way toward the reason of their trip: The Mütter Museum.

They spend the next four hours looking at everything from Victorian eye model to corseted skeleton to the famous 'Soap Lady'. He's standing by a display case full of human skulls when she calls his name; he turns his head only to be blinded by the flash of her digital camera.

"You could have warned me." He says, rubbing his eyes. "I would have taken off the hat at least."

She tells him not to worry about it, that he looks just as handsome as ever, even with the hat on. She tries to take a picture of the two of them but fails at framing them both and it ends up with only half his chest along with his chin and the top of her head that make the picture. A lady standing close by offers to take it for them; he takes off the hat for that one.

The snow stopped by the time they start walking back to the hotel, he's holding the bag of various items they purchased at the gift shop. Out of the blue, she kisses his cheek.

"What was that for?"

"For making this, the best Valentine's Day I've had, and by far."

He gently squeezes her hand and mentally, he makes a note to thank Garcia for reminding him!

* * *

**Author's Note:** Spencer in a hat was inspired by an actual picture of Matthew Gray Gubler at the Mütter Museum. There is a link to it on my profile.


	13. New York City

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 13: New York City**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

"Hey, Mimi, have you seen my keys?" He could have sworn he placed them on the bedside table last night. Although, he was rather ecstatic when they arrived back at her apartment which can blur one's memories; he puts his hand in his pocket and making sure it's still there; his One Year medallion! A full year dilaudid-free, it feels surreal.

"An eidetic memory and still can't remember where his keys are." He hears coming from the kitchen; she asks if he checked the drawer, since that's usually the spot where his watch is hiding when he can't find it.

He starts rummaging through the drawer when his hand rests on something cold and metallic, but definitely not his keys. He pulls it out and inspects it for a moment; Michelle walks into the bedroom, she's about to say something when he asks: "Why do you have a .38 Smith & Wesson revolver in your bedside table?"

"It was my grandpa's, my dad gave it to me when I moved to New York, saying it wasn't safe for a single young girl. To be honest, I'm terrified of the thing."

"Really? It obviously hasn't been used in quite a while and could use some work, but that's a great gun."

"Do you want it?" She asks as she sits on the bed to lace her pink Converse.

He asks if she's serious, it was her grand-father's, she, surely, would rather keep it in her family. She shakes her head and says she really would feel safer with it out of her home.

"So, if you think you can make it work, and you like it, it's yours, my love." Michelle claps her hand on her mouth, her eyes wide. That word isn't one that they exchanged yet, and she looks about to faint. He takes her hand away from her mouth and she looks at the floor, blushing; after a moment, her eyes look back at him and she murmurs: "There, I said it. I love you, Spencer."

He leans in and kisses her gently; he pulls back and looks at her, wondering how is it possible that his life changed so much of the past few months?

"I love you, too."

The magic is quickly broken by her alarm telling her it's time to leave for the Java Tree; he puts the revolver back where he found it.

"Oh, by the way, I came in here to tell you, I found your keys." She throws them at him and he fails at catching them, which makes her chuckle. "They were in your coat pocket."

He walks with her to the coffee shop, gets the same thing as always and heads to work. They're finally being called in by the New York Field Office regarding the series of shooting that has been happening over the last two weeks.

Before they head to airport, he dashes into the men's room and texts Michelle: 'We're going to your birth place to help with the shootings. I will try to call you tonight from the hotel. Have a good day!'

He is already sitting in the plane when his phone vibrate in his pocket telling him he has a new message and he risks checking it while everyone pays attention to Garcia's raving about the jet.

'Be safe! I'll be watching. Good luck with the case!'

To anyone else, the words 'I'll be watching.' might seem a little strange, but it makes him smile; a few weeks after they started dating, she admitted to moving her laptop into her lab while she's working to have constant access to news coverage, just in case they report anything about the case they are on and to feel a bit more secure about his safety.

He hides the phone back in the safety of his pocket, next to his brand new, shiny medallion.

New York is an intense experience; not only do they learn that they have more than one UnSub, but there's also the tension in the team due to SSA Joyner's seemingly random dislike of Morgan and learning about J.J.'s situation. He's unsure why, but the idea of one of his close friends being pregnant makes him rather uncomfortable.

He dials her number, and when she picks up, he feels most of the stress of the day leaving his body. They talk about their day; he tells her about J.J. and Will and about the case and she mentions some drama at work. They say good night, and he lays in bed awake for a while; sharing a bed with someone is very much of a learning experience (She had to adapt to his habit of leaving a light on during the night and he had to learn about sleeping in the same bed as someone else period.), but when he's away, he misses it more than when they decide to sleep in their separate apartments.

The next morning brings them another body, more questions and even less answers. He spends a good part of the evening verifying the profile with Rossi, and only gets back to the hotel at 1 am.

The third day seems like it's going to be more of the same and he's revising his geographical profile for what feels like the 100th time; it's actually just the 37th. As Rossi and Det. Brustin discuss, something click in Reid's head, he turns to the board and there it is.

"If you saw all of these traits completely out of context, what would be the first profile that pops into your head?" He asks the other agent, and a moment later, he's on the phone with Garcia, trying to get a hold of the team and that's when everything goes from bad to worst.

They realize the surveillance system has been hacked in and before they can even let the team know, Detective Cooper gets shot and Emily has to take out the suspect and just like that, their suspicions become reality; they're dealing with terrorists. Sometimes, he hates it when they're right!

He's driving to Port Authority Bus Terminal when his phone rings; he fumbles around to get it out of his bag without taking his eyes off the road, driving in New York is an absolute nightmare. By the time he finally gets it out, it stopped ringing; he's about to put it bag when it starts again.

"Hello?"

"Oh thank God!" Michelle's voice is panicked and staccato, like she's been crying, he doesn't even have time to ask what's wrong, before she says, "I just saw the explosion on TV and they said it was near Federal Plaza, and I know we agreed that I shouldn't call you at work, I just couldn't... Il fallait, huh... I mean, I needed to know you're okay."

"What? What explosion?" He barely gets the question out and she tells him what the news reporter said. "I, I have to call the rest of the team. I'll, I'll call you as soon as I can!"

"Okay, just... just come home in one piece okay?"

He says he will, and hopes he's not lying. He makes a U-turn in the middle of Greenwich Avenue, turns on the sirens and heads back to Federal Plaza, trying everyone's cellphones but not getting any answers. He barges in the Field Office and finds Rossi, that's at least one of them who's okay!

He lies and says he heard about the bombing on the radio, luckily she called him or otherwise he'd still be in the dark. He calls Homeland Security and alerts them of the sites that will likely be hit by the bombers.

After that, they have to do the worst part of their job... wait. He paces back and forth in the office, biting his lips until they're nearly bleeding. They know Morgan and Prentiss are okay, but they still haven't heard about Hotch or J.J. and, he knows there isn't anything they can do right now, but it kills him to not be out there trying to find the rest of his team.

He starts reworking his geographical profile, adding the explosion site into the equation, which has the fortunate side effect to keep most of his mind occupied, when Emily and J.J. barge in, they're both alive and well and so is Will. He might reconsider that theory of a supreme being after this if everyone comes out of it okay.

Garcia updates them on the situation; Hotch is alive but SSA Joyner is in bad shape and ambulances aren't allowed to breach the perimeter. Derek is chasing down the bomber and they try to figure out the best way to help.

One thing doesn't sit right with him though, it's been almost half an hour, and there aren't reports of any explosions or of Homeland Security finding anything at the test sites. Something isn't right.

Once again, he proves his lack of social grace by mentioning that the UnSubs accomplished nothing in front of the NYPD Detective, but right now there isn't time to worry about hurt feelings, these guys are intelligent, organized, disciplined and, for all they know, they aren't finished.

They arrive at St. Barclay's Hospital and get Hotch up to speed. The last piece of the puzzle falls in their laps; New York isn't the target, whoever the Secret Services are protecting at St. Barclay's is.

They find the bodies of the Secret Services agents and Morgan leads the bomb away; the UnSub kills himself before they can take him in, but they expected as much. SSA Joyner doesn't make it off the table, but Detective Cooper and Hotch should make full recoveries, which makes it hard to tell if they won or lost this one...

He walks up the few steps up to the building's front door and a neighbor walks out as he reaches it; he walks down the hallway, puts his go-bag on the floor and knocks at apartment 1A. She opens the door, her eyes filling with tears, she wraps her arms around him and he doesn't know if he's ever been hugged that tightly before. Her body is shaking like a leaf and she sobbing against him. He just holds her close until she's able to breathe normally again. She looks up, her hand reaching out to touch his face; he rests his cheek against her palm, closing his eyes to take in the sensation for a moment.

"I was so scared something might have happened to you."

He takes her hand in his and brings it up to his lips, kissing it lightly. He wants to say that everything is going to be alright, that she doesn't have to worry, but he knows the statistics, he knows one day he might not come back from work and he just can't lie to her. Instead, he just stands there and hold her close until she's ready to move again.


	14. One Step Closer

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 14: One Step Closer**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He ends up staying at her place for a few days, unable to leave her since he is the reason she got so scared in the first place; she apologizes three times for calling despite their agreement and promises not to do it again, even if he reminds her that if she hadn't called he probably wouldn't have known what was going on until Garcia checked on them. After couple of days, life gets back to its normal course; the team is called to Ohio on a case and for the first time he takes her grandfather's revolver with him. He doesn't believe in good luck charms or fate, but she does, despite the hour long lecture he gave her, where he explained how good luck is simply a matter of perception and the fact that all good luck charms and symbols are simply based on shared cultural consciousness. She says she doesn't really care if it's logical or not, it's just something that she's believed in for a long time and it hasn't let her down yet.

Then Colorado happens, where he and Prentiss are taken hostage by a cult. The guilt he feels due to Emily getting beaten to spare him is eating him inside; he knows already it will take a good long while to ease it and that it will probably lead him to a few meetings. He also feels guilty because, for the first time since he joined the Bureau, he worried as much for his own life as he did for his teammate's. Before, he never really had anything to go home to, sure there's the rest of the team and his mom, but it's not the same; now there's someone whose life is intertwined with his.

When he joined the BAU, death wasn't something that scared him, it's simply a fact of life, that at some point, it ends; no one knows when or where, so why not make it a little magnificent and have it happen while trying to catch some awful murderer. There's so many careers that he could have chosen and he went with the one with some of the highest risks of physical or psychological harm. Deep inside he knows there's a part of his mind, one that he doesn't want to dwell on for too long in fear of what he might find, that probably pushed him to this job due, partially, to theses odds.

As he runs out of the exploding chapel, he realizes that, for the first time in years, he is afraid of dying, afraid of not coming home; in that moment, he decides that it is time to bring both his lives together. No more hiding!

And that's how they got here, a week and a half later, at a pub in the city; he's nervous and he tries his best not fidget. He takes a sip of his soda and turns to watch Prentiss winning a game of pool against Morgan who can't seem to believe what just happened. Garcia and Kevin Lynch are dancing, or at least, Garcia is dancing and Kevin is attempting, without great success, to follow the beat. J.J. decided to come out with them, he wonders if it's a safe idea given how late it is in her pregnancy, but he's glad she's there.

His phone vibrates in his pocket and he excuses himself; the bar is too loud for him to hear anything and he has to step outside to take the call.

"Hey!"

"Hi! I just got off the subway and I'm almost there," she says her voice a little hoarser than normal due to a lingering cold.

"I'll wait for you outside then." He barely finishes his sentence before feeling two arms wrapping themselves around his waist, and the now familiar touch of her body against his. He turns around without breaking her embrace and simply leans down to kiss her. She smiles up at him and takes his hand; he opens the door and step back inside, leading her toward their tables.

Garcia spots them and smiles before whispering something in her date's ear; Michelle nods in the blonde's direction and gives a little wave. Derek and Prentiss are back by J.J.'s side; the tall man is busy flirting with the waitress as the girls roll their eyes. None the less, it's his eyes that lock on their hands first and Reid wonders if he's made the right decision.

"Huh, guys," his voice is a little high and he clears his throat. His three friends are staring him and he's feeling uncomfortable; he glances at the pretty girl at his side, her eyes sparkling with affection. His entire demeanor gets more confident. "I'd like you to meet my Michelle... my girlfriend, Michelle."

Prentiss is the fastest to get up and introduce herself and starts asking her questions. Michelle smiles and happily answers to all of them; he's glad she has an easier time with meeting people than he does. J.J. shakes Michelle's hand as Morgan walks up to him and puts his arm around his shoulders.

"Well kid! I have to say, I'm impressed; she seems nice and she's cute too. Why'd you hide her from us for so long?"

He's saved from answering by Garcia who chooses that moment to walk back up to their group, pulling Kevin behind her.

"Oh God, I'm so glad you guys decided to tell everyone, I was dying trying to keep this to myself!" She says, beaming.

"Baby girl, you knew about this and you didn't tell us?" Morgan's surprise is written all over his face and his mouth actually falls open when Garcia mentions that she's known for over a month and managed to keep it to herself.

Michelle squeezes his hand to get his attention, she mentions she's going to get herself something to drink and asks if he wants anything. He declines and watches her as she make her way through the crowd.

"You're in love, aren't you?" Prentiss is standing next to him, a knowing smile on her lips. "We're really happy for you, Reid, she seems like a sweet girl. She's the reason you've been smiling more the last few months, isn't she?"

"Yes." He finds himself replying to both questions with one word, and then the second question hits him. "Did it show?"

"A little, from time to time, mostly at nights when we were all headed home or to our rooms, everyone would be tired and you'd suddenly have this boost of energy."

He finally turns his head to look at her before adding: "We talk on the phone at night when we're out of town on a case. It's kind of the best part of the day."

Michelle walks back toward them, and Prentiss claps his shoulder before leaving them alone for some privacy. He can hear his teammate talking behind him but he doesn't bother listening, he knows what they're gossiping about. He's glad the entire thing was actually so painless, he wonders why he worried about it so much.

"What's going on in that big brain of yours?"

He purses his lips and frowns a little before telling her he's trying to figure out if it's acceptable for him to kiss her in front of his team. She puts down her drink on the table next to them and pulls him into a kiss, right then and there, in front of everyone. His arms close around her waist, he can hear Morgan and Garcia catcalling behind them and he doesn't care, right now, nothing matters but the fact that he is here with his friends and the woman he loves and he's happy.


	15. Children, Leeches & Lies

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 15: Children, Leeches & Lies**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He knew it would happen sooner rather than later but it still surprises him when the teasing and questioning start the very next day; first, it's Derek with his 'And beside you only have one name to remember!' and then Prentiss asking him if he's considering 'having baby geniuses one day?', question from which he is saved by Garcia's call. In all honesty, he never thought about the possibility of having children; first of all, the idea of being in a relationship is still new to him and his brain is admittedly still adapting to those new perimeters, secondly, he always thought that his genetic too flawed and he wouldn't want to burden a child with all the possible issues that is probably encoded in his DNA. It's probably because of J.J.'s pregnancy, but he did catch himself thinking about it.

During the next week, they fly to Vegas and the case brings with it a resurgence in one of his reoccurring nightmares; a boy, abused and killed, hidden behind the dryer unit in his own house. That dream has been haunting him for years; Morgan wakes him up, he's been screaming in his sleep and woke up the parents of the kidnapped kid. He feels angry with himself and worried about his ability to work this case properly.

He goes outside and sits on the porch, his long legs folded under the chair. He reaches for his phone; it rings a few times before she picks up. Her voice is tired, but he can tell she wasn't sleeping even it is 3 am in D.C.

"Hey."

"Hey, you're up late, is everything okay?"

She replies that could ask him the same question before adding that she hasn't really been able to sleep when he's on a case since New York. He figured as much, since she's been looking as tired as he has when he came back from the last few cases, but he hadn't wanted pry by asking her about it.

"What about you, Beautiful Boy? Is something keeping you awake tonight?"

"Actually yes... you know, how... sometimes I have those nightmares..?" He sighs as she acquiesces, of course she knows she's witnessed them a few times already; one of the first nights she stayed over at his place, he woke her up by trashing around and talking in his sleep, drenched in cold sweat and that wasn't even one of the really bad ones. "Morgan and I are staying the night at the second victim's home and, well... I, I feel asleep on the couch... and..."

"I see. How bad?"

"Bad! It was that one dream about that dead boy in his basement but worst, for some reason, I was covered in leeches..." He passes his fingers through his hair, she mentions that she knows he doesn't believe in dream analysis but maybe he should try and look into it.

"You told me yourself that..." She lowers her voice to try and imitate his; he has to give her some credit on having his intonations down though. "'Freud has been discredited, but Jung still has his merits.' Maybe giving it a shot might do you some good."

He agrees that maybe he should look into it, who knows maybe figuring out what his subconscious has been trying to tell him for the past 20+ years is a good idea.

"Did you know that anxiety is most common emotion experienced in dreams, even in the ones we don't remember, negative emotions are far more common than positive ones."

"You must be feeling a little calmer, you're back to rambling facts." She says, laughing; she yawns and he tells her to try and get some sleep. "You're probably right, you should do the same. Good night, Spencer."

"Good night, Mimi."

He hangs up; he knows he won't be able to go back to sleep, but never the less, he rests his head against the back of the chair and looks up at the sky before closing his eyes, hoping his nightmares will leave him alone.

The next day, he blames the lack of sleep for the hallucination he has at the funeral, the other possibility being to terrifying to even voice in his mind, but it leaves him with the certitude that is dream might be more than just that. That's when Morgan tells him about Riley Jenkins and it feels like he already knows the entirety of the case before he's done reading the file; every detail matches his dreams to a T.

The case leads him to Bennington and while Dr. Norman checks with the other mental institutions in the area, he has a few minutes with his mom who, luckily, is having an okay day. He asks her about Riley Jenkins and she tells him, he was nothing more than a story Spencer made up as a child. Somehow that doesn't feel right, but it's not something he can actually waste energy on right now, not when there's a boy who might still be alive and needing help.

He's the last to arrive at the scene; he checks through the house as the team tries to talk down the UnSub in the yard. At the end of the hall, there's a locked door. He carefully makes his way toward it; he unbolts the lock and pushes the door open. Little Michael Bridges runs toward him and he takes the boy in arms and leads him to safety.

The parents arrive and he watches as they get reunited, this is normally one of his favorite parts of the job; when they manage to bring back a victim to their loved ones alive. Today though the scene being played before him is darken by many questions about a boy he might or might not have known. Morgan tells him to just enjoy the moment and he tries.

He spends the night at the Sanitarium with his mom in an attempt to ask her more questions but nothing comes of it, except the worst and most vivid version of his nightmare yet and that's when he realizes; his father abused and killed Riley Jenkins.

He hates lying to the team but he knows they'll try to convince him to let sleeping dogs lie if he tells them about his theory. He calls Michelle at work, on his way to the police station, to let her know he'll be staying in Vegas for a few extra days and she inquires if everything is all right. He tells her the truth, not because he trusts her more than his colleagues but because he needs to get it off his chest and he knows she will keep his secret.

"Spencer, are you sure you want to go and dig into that? I know you're angry with your father, I get it, I'm still angry with my mom for walking out on my dad, but if you're right, is this really something you want to put yourself through?"

"I need to know the truth."

It frustrates him a little that she's trying to talk him out of it. She sighs and says she has to get back to work and she'll see him when he gets back.

"Call me tonight, okay?"

"I will."

Back from the station, with the files on the case, he finds Rossi and Morgan in his room; he can feel a frustration headache trying to make its way into his head. They want to help, but as he expected, they try to warn him not to continue down that path. They don't understand that he doesn't want to know, he needs to know; he needs those nightmares to stop and if that's the way to do it, so be it.

He talks to his mother at Bennington and learns a bit more about his father than what he can actually remember of him. As his mom mentions that he used to coach his little league team, his suspicion feels even more probable. After a while he tells his mom what he knows and, unsurprisingly, she actually believed Riley was just a story he made up.

He and Morgan interviews Riley's father and, unfortunately that doesn't lead them anywhere regarding the case, but he does learn that all these years, his father was less than ten miles away and never even bother to come and see him. The embers of the anger he has had toward the man for all these years consume themselves into an actual blazing fire, he manages to keep a straight face, but inside, he's boiling!

By the time they make it to Wieder, Kirschenbaum and Moore, his nerves are getting the best of him, he wonders if he is strong enough to do this; to see his father for the first time in seventeen years. He feels nauseous and goes to the bathroom; he splashes some water in his face, for a moment, he thinks he might vomit.

He makes it back to the lobby, and there he is, face to face with his father. They're lead into a conference room, and he can't help but snap back when his father says he doesn't look like him anymore. His father looks too calm, too unfazed and it makes everything even worst. When his father tells them to get a warrant if they want to look through his computer and files, he almost smirks, feeling finally justified.

He gets Garcia to go through his father's computer and as he enter his room, he finds an envelope on the floor with an handwritten note attached to it, a rap sheet regarding another suspect in the case. He is discussing about the convenience of this new possible suspect with Rossi and Morgan when Garcia calls back with the results of her search.

As he makes his way out of the hotel, massaging his temples, he wonders why his team, the people who have been his family for years now, don't seem to get it. He doesn't want his father to be a decent person, he needs him to be a monster because only a monster would abandon his 10 years-old son and his sick wife the way he did. His phone vibrates in his pocket and he checks the text message he just received: 'I hope you find what you're looking for. I love you, B.B.!'

He smiles and passes his fingers over the screen, almost as if to caress the message; sometimes he wonders how it is that she can just tell when he needs a text like that. When he walks back in, Rossi and Morgan have left the lobby; he waits for them by wasting time at one of the video poker machine. Contrary to what people assume, he knows the woman talking to him is a prostitute, awkward boy growing up in Vegas you learn the signs pretty fast. He doesn't really care one way or another to be quite honest, just talking to someone about something else than a dead boy or his father is rather refreshing right now. He mentions hypnosis as a way to stop smoking and suddenly, he knows what their next move has to be.

The hypnosis session leads to even more questions, he has to admit he's glad Rossi stayed with him for it. He goes back to his mom again and pushes too far, causing her to have an episode; he can't believe he just did that, this situation has taken over his brain and making him act in a way he normally wouldn't. He knows he's not thinking straight when he barges into the Detective's office demand his father be brought in for questioning nor is he thinking straight when he starts interrogating his father, but he wants answers, and he wants them now.

He learns about Gary Michaels' death through Morgan, and his faith in his suspicion wavers. No, it can't be true, he has to be right on this one, he has to. The results of the finger print comes him, and his heart sinks when Derek tells him who it belongs to. Did his need for revenge lead to the destruction of someone's life who has already suffered more than he should have?

They arrest Lou Jenkins and still it feels like everyone is hiding something from him and he just want the truth, is that too much to ask for? When his parents walk into the interrogation room, he can't help but just blink at them, confused. They sit in Detective Hyde's office and his mother tells him what actually happened; he can't believe she went off her meds to bring him closure.

His dad finishes the story and tells him the real reason why he left; it doesn't make okay, or sooth the wound he had in him for all these years but at least, now he understand, he knows. He apologizes for everything; if he had to do it all again, he wouldn't take back what happened but if he had the chance he would do it differently.

They fly back to Quantico and make it to the hospital to meet baby Henry. J.J. and Will ask him to be his godfather, and he can hardly believe it. As he holds the infant in his arms, he makes a promise, mainly to himself; if he ever has children, he will never hide anything from them.


	16. Learning to Appreciate the Present

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 16: Learning to Appreciate the Present**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

Months pass slowly, cases after cases; he's not home much but when he is, he makes the most of it. Michelle stays most nights at his apartment when he is around and he has to admit, he really enjoys the routine they have established. He cooks and she takes care of the dishes. He remembers her being quite surprised, and impressed, the first time he cooked for her. It's something he learned rather fast when his father left and his mother was in too bad a shape to even eat if he wasn't pushing her to, so he started reading cooking books and trying things with what they had in the house, hoping that if it looked and smelled good enough his mom would eat it.

After dinner they either watch a movie or marathon through some TV shows on DVD, they're currently making their way through rewatching The X-Files, or he will read while she works on her computer, filing spreadsheets after spreadsheets with data about her customers or which one of her products are the most popular. One evening while she's hunched over her laptop, frowning with concentration as she enters the information for the last two days, he just puts down the government report (Bioterrorism, Chemical and Biological Defense, Research and Preparedness Activities) he was reading and watches her. She gives him a side glance and comments sarcastically that she knows there is nothing sexier than a girl filling an Excel sheet; he gives her his best attempt at a flirtatious smile and reminders her who she is talking to.

They go out with the team a few times and he can hardly believe how easy it is for her to just take her place in a group of people; she gets along well with Garcia, Prentiss and, of course, Morgan who has that same almost uncanny (to him at least) ability. They even go over to Will and J.J.'s a few times for brunch; although Michelle did seem a little wary of J.J. after first meeting her. She made a comment that first night that he hadn't told her his female colleagues are all very pretty, especially J.J., Derek later told him that replying to that with "I know. I actually asked her out a few years ago... It didn't work out well, halfway through the afternoon I had to tell her it was a date. There's definitely a pattern here, since J.J. actually looks a lot like Lila Archer, another girl I almost kinda dated." was probably the worst thing he could have answered. Luckily, things got better after they talked about that situation a bit; she explained that her failed engagement did leave her with a few scars even if she doesn't really want to admit it and that she does feel a little insecure about her looks and her intelligence when she compares to the other people he's close to.

The team still teases him a bit about her, less often than when they first learned about her existence, but sometimes when he calls her from the car on their way to the airstrip or texts her to let her know they're on their way home, Morgan will just find something to do or say to poke a little fun at his expense. He doesn't even mind anymore because the benefits of the team knowing about Michelle far outweigh the disadvantages.

During those months, they celebrate six months together, which despite Garcia, J.J. and even Rossi's explanations he still doesn't really get why it's celebrated but he still gets her a vinyl copy of her favorite album, David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust, which becomes a nearly permanent fixture on her turntable and she gives him a pocket watch which he becomes rather infatuated with. Hotch ends up having to tell him to keep it at home because he plays with it too much.

They also face their relationship's first little bump in the road. It's his fault and he is quick to admit it; when they get really caught up in a long case, he sometime focuses so much on it that he partially loses the ability to differentiate between the days. He'll think it's Monday when it's actually Wednesday. Unfortunately, a case like that came up near the end of March and when the team flies back to Quantico after being gone almost nine days, they decide to go for some Indian food, admittedly his weakness, and he decides to tag along. He calls her from the car, on the way to the restaurant and for some reason, she sounds distant, he rules it off as her probably being busy. When he stops by the Java Tree the next morning, she's the same way and he starts to wonder if he might have offended her in some way. In the evening, he goes to her apartment and when he receives the cold shoulder again, he asks her what's going on, she asks if he knows what day it is. He wonders how that's relevant to anything but none the less checks his watch and replies that it's April 2nd, as his brain connects that information with her visible anger.

"Yesterday was your birthday," he finds himself uttering. How did he forget that? He was supposed to meet her at her favorite restaurant; he was even the one to make the reservation. "Why didn't you tell me when I called you?"

"Because I had already been waiting at the restaurant for over an hour and I couldn't bear to stay there any longer."

He considers himself incredibly fortunate that his girlfriend is resilient and by the time he heads off to work the next morning, everything is back to normal; he borrows her purple scarf, having forgotten his at his apartment the night before and he makes her laugh by mentioning that he feels like a knight carrying a token from his beloved. She calls him 'Sire Spencer' for a week after that. He keeps borrowing it from time to time and he's especially glad to have something of hers with him when the team is called on disturbing cases like the abduction/necrophilia one they encounter in Olympia, Washington.

After the case with Adam/Amanda, which leaves him feeling like he failed to save the younger man from his delusion, he finally tells Michelle about his mother's situation, about the fact that schizophrenia is genetic and that one of the things he fears the most is to become like his mom. She asks him if that's why he didn't want her to meet his mom and he acquiesces, adding that he didn't want to scare her away.

"I'm... quite the catch, huh?" He said, with a joyless chuckle. "Socially incompetent ex-addict who might develop schizophrenia..."

"Yeah that may be part of who you are, Spencer, but you forget; incredibly caring toward the people close to you, ridiculously intelligent, interesting, sweet, courageous, attractive and a lot more!"

And again he wonders what a girl like her is doing with a guy like him. She mentions that when, or if, he wants her to meet his mother, she'd be happy to. A few days later when he borrowed her laptop to look up something, he is not surprised to see multiple searches about schizophrenia in her search history; he can't help but asks himself if it's a good or a bad thing.

He stirs as his text alarm wakes them up, he reaches over to the bedside table grabbling around for his phone. He checks the time before reading the message, 5:34 am.

'URGENT CASE. NO NEED FOR GO-BAG.'

He groans as he untangles his legs from his girlfriend's, she rolls over and looks at him as he starts rummaging through the armoire on the opposite wall. Her room is small enough that she can just reach out and grab his wrist, pulling him back toward the bed.

"Stay with me just five more minutes." She murmurs almost purring.

"Michelle, I have to go. J.J.'s text says it's urgent." He sighs, she can be rather irresponsible sometimes. He removes his wrist from her grasps and finishes collecting his clothes.

"You've been here five hours and I haven't seen you all week, I think it's kinda normal that I wish I could have a little more time with you." She grumbles as she rolls over in bed, facing away from him.

He doesn't have time to soothe her bruised ego and he makes his way out of the bedroom and into the bathroom; he quickly showers and get dressed, gathers his bag, shoes and jacket, but just before heading out, he pokes his head back into the bedroom.

"I'll call you as soon as we're done. Good luck for today."

If Spencer could have predicted what would transpire in the next 24 hours, he would have stayed with her that extra five minutes.


	17. Holding on by a Thread

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 17: Holding on by a Thread**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He arrives to work at the same time as Prentiss and Morgan; they ride the elevator together, the three of them wondering what kind of emergency case it might be to require them coming in before 7 am. They walk toward the BAU, and he frowns.

"What's the army doing here?" Asks Morgan behind him and he can't help thinking this is a very bad sign.

J.J. and Hotch are already in the briefing room when he walks in, along with a woman he doesn't know. The first things he registers are their serious expressions and the cups of pills on the table. In his mind he goes through the entire list of all possible medicines that come in 500 ml oblong white tablets and would coincide with needing the army around; Ciprofloxacin. Definitely a very sign.

The woman introduces herself as Dr. Kimura and says she wishes she was meeting the team under different circumstances. He fears the answer he will get but tries to keep his facial expression contained as he asks: "What circumstances?"

J.J. explains what happened and he looks through the file in front of him; the symptoms are consistent with his suspicions but the time table is all wrong. When Derek inquires if it is, indeed, anthrax they are dealing with, he comments that it doesn't kill that fast.

"This strand does," says Dr. Kimura, obviously trying to keep her own worries under check.

Prentiss asks about the precautions they're taking and Hotch tells them about the media blackout. It's for the best, really, because scared people are far more dangerous than any pathogens. He inquires about this specific strand; anything that can kill that fast needs to be dealt with safely as well as swiftly and with every single new answer the team gets more on edge.

He is assigned to go to the hospital to interview the victims; they all take a large dose of Cipro, hoping it will keep them safe. He feels the antibiotic makes its way down his throat and keeps his fingers crossed that they won't have to rely on it.

He grabs some files from J.J.'s office, verifying what has and what hasn't been done to the victims trying to find a pattern as to why this strand is killing them so fast. He sits in Dr. Kimura's vehicle, files on his laps, trying to take everything in; his fingers moves quickly down the pages, there isn't any discernible patterns that he can find which makes it impossible to extrapolate a theory.

When they arrive to the hospital, they learn that another patient passed. Dr. Kimura checks with her staff to verify the state of each one of the remaining victims before leading him into the room where a girl named Abby is being treated. She's probably ten years his junior but the lesions on her skin and sickish grey look of her skin make her look much older. He conducts a cognitive interview with her, until aphasia sets in rendering her unable to speak coherently.

He's never heard of anthrax causing that kind of a reaction in patients, he asks Dr. Kimura's opinion on what might be reason for this and she tells him that it seems to be the last step of this strand before death. Nothing is working on the patients and all her team can do is try to make them comfortable before the end comes. This has to be the worst strand he's heard of, and he hopes against hope that they will be able to save those people.

Another one of the victims succumbs to the damages of the anthrax, the 17th of 25; the odds of saving any of them getting slimmer by the minutes. As the doctor explains the cause of death in more details, something falls into place in his head. This can't be a first try, this strand has to have been tested before hand somewhere else.

He calls the office after Dr. Kimura finishes checking with other E.R.s for sudden deaths that could have been caused by anthrax and explains his theory. It takes only an hour before the team finds the location of the first dispersion, during that time they lose four more people; Abby is still hanging on, but barely. He can't help but think about Michelle, if something like this was to happen to her, he doesn't know what he would do; a little voice in the back of his mind has been telling him all day to just sneak away for a second and call her to tell her to stay in.

Morgan comes and picks him up at the hospital; he briefs him on Dr. Nichols as they head to his house. When they arrive there's already a team inside checking for possible contamination, nothing seems out of the ordinary as they make their way toward the back entrance. He pricks his hand on a rosebush as he heads to the yard while Derek takes a call from Prentiss. He sees the patio door that seems to lead to a lab area and he pushes it open; he steps inside and the first thing he thinks is that it's really unsafe to have the A/C blaring while working with certain types of chemicals and that's when he sees them, his entire body going into panic, broken vials on the floor spreading white powder into the air. Oh God, what did he just do...?

He hears Morgan calling his name and his eyes jerk away from the powder at his feet; he sees Dr. Nichols on the ground who appears to have been dead for a few days, his head split opened with a blunt object; the lab animals died from the anthrax in the air. He catches a glimpse of Derek heading toward the door and he runs to slide it shut before his friend can enter and be infected too.

"I'm sorry." He says, softly. Derek doesn't seem to understand why until he follows his gaze to the floor; he can see the other man's face fall as he realizes what happened.

His brain tries to bring up thoughts of Michelle and he fights it; he can't think about her right now, he can't let himself imagine even for a second that this morning was the last time he'd see her. Derek says something about calling Hotch and to hang in there, that they'll get him out but it all sounds so far away. Why the hell did he rush into that house? Well, at least, this way he was the only one contaminated.

He passes his fingers through his hair, there's no time to waste; if he's going to make it out of this alive, he needs to start looking for a cure, because no one would keep anthrax around their lab without having a cure around, right? He sure hopes that the Cipro he took earlier works.

Hotch and the General arrive, he can see an ambulance and a hazmat team getting suited up through the window. His phone feels heavy in his pocket and he wishes he could hear her voice; he knows he can't call, but it would make it easier to concentrate if he could just listen to her speak for a moment, since it always manages to calm down his frayed nerves. He needs to talk to her one last time. He has his phone in his hand and that's when he reaches a decision; he won't let this kill him, he has too much to live for now.

He hits the speed-dial for Hotch's number and they try to tell him that they'll get him out, he tells them no, he's staying here until he can find a way to save the other victims and himself. He hangs up and starts going through Nichols' notes, no time to waste. He fixes in his mind his two main reasons to live, his mom and the woman he loves; he won't let them down.

Hotch calls back and he describes to him what he sees and that's when he realizes that Nichols was working with someone else. He tells them to go back to the office and figure out who that might be, but Morgan won't go. He knows the other man feels responsible for him getting contaminated; he would feel the same way if the roles were reversed.

He has a first fit of cough and fear takes a hold of him. He calls Garcia and feels a pinching at his heart when he hears her voice. He tries to play it cool by asking why he's not getting one of her trademark greetings, and she tells him how she can't be herself when he is in the situation he's in.

"Huh... Garcia do you think you could do... something for me?" He asks, keeping his voice from breaking.

"Anything."

"I, I know I can't call my mom without..." He coughs again and tells himself it's due to the emotional toll of what he is about to do but even in his mind it doesn't sound quite convincing. "...alerting everyone at her hospital and I can't call Michelle without her probably coming down here and try to pull me out herself."

He tries to laugh that last part off, for Garcia's sake, make her less worried, but he's pretty certain he fails miserably. She asks what he needs and he tells her, he just want to record a message for each of them in case anything happens. She tries to reassure him that nothing will happen to him that he will brilliantly save the day.

"I hope you're right, but, if you're not, I just... really wanna make sure that... they hear my voice."

She tells him to give her a second, and after a few moments, he asks if she's ready. He starts with the message for his mom, his voice already cracking.

"Hi mom, this is Spencer. I just, huh, really want you to know that I love you... and, huh..." He chokes a little and clears his throat. "I need you to know that I spend every day of my life proud to be your son."

He swallows hard and takes a deep breath, asking Garcia if she's ready for the second message as his throat start to feel itchy and sore.

"Yeah." Her voice almost as shaky as his.

"Hey Mimi, it's me. I want to..." He pauses, he knows Garcia is listening and it makes it harder to get the words out. "...to say, I love you and, huh, that I'm sorry for not... huh, not saying it more often." He breathes in and out, his eyes stinging. "Also, I, I want to thank you for... for... bringing more joy into my life than I, I ever thought possible."

He barely finishes the message when he hears movement outside; Penelope says his name on the other end, and he just has time to say he has to go and hang up before Dr. Kimura walks in her hazmat suit. He tries to joke around a little; he can tell his breath is getting shorter as he asks about the patients. The doctor offers to give him pain medication which he wholeheartedly refuses; he will take pain over relapse any day. She questions his decision and he snaps at her, he doesn't mean to but he needs to get that point across.

He explain how to start trying to find the cure which he sincerely hopes is hidden somewhere in this lab when his phone rings. His throat hurts and breathing is getting painful, this isn't good. Morgan asks how he's doing and he answers truthfully that he's seen better days. He feels weak when Derek tells him that Rossi and Prentiss can't find the partner in any of Dr. Nichols' colleagues; he tries to focus on finding out more about the mystery man and not on tightening in his throat which seems to get worst with every passing minutes.

He wipes off the sweat from his forehead as Garcia checks Ph.D.s students; when she comes up empty-handed he almost swears. They need to find who that man is before he infects more people; he can't let anyone else feel the same kind of pain he is feeling because it's keeping him from thinking straight.

They find a potential suspect and Dr. Kimura locates what could be the hidden cure they've been looking for which is good because his lungs are getting exponentially more painful with each breath.

They get him into the decontamination tent and start the process. He unsuccessfully tries to get Morgan to leave, hoping that not seeing the state he is in would lessen his friend's guilt but the other man insists in seeing him off to the hospital; fortunately, he allows him to keep a little modesty and leaves the tent before he has to undress.

"I hope you're right about this!" Says the doctor referring to the cure in the inhaler, as he undoes his tie.

"So do I."

That's when she asks if he cut himself, he looks down and sees the black necrosis on the back of his left hand. He can feel his heart rate increasing as he thinks back to earlier when he pricked his hand on the rose bush. How can he have been that careless and not have at least tried to protect the cut from the spores with the first aid kit he saw in the lab.

They rush him into the ambulance, his coughing just won't let go and he can feel warm liquid in his throat; he doesn't need the iron taste to know it is blood. His nails are digging into his palms every few seconds as waves of pain tear through his entire body.

Dr. Kimura asks how the pain is and he lies, replying that his throat is a little dry but otherwise he feels phi... he fleels thin... he feels... He tries to articulate the word but it doesn't work. Why isn't it working, well, he knows the reason but he's not ready to accept that. This can't be really happening. He'll get through this right?

He hears Dr. Kimura tell the driver to go faster, she's trying to keep her face calm and peaceful but he can see in her micro expressions that she's not sure they will be able to save him. He closes his eyes; he feels the blood make its way up his throat again. He hears the doctor's voice, but it sounds so far away, mention something about pulmonary distress.

He has one last conscious thought before blacking out from the latest surge of pain: 'I'm not going to make it.'

It's much to his own surprise when he opens his eyes, squinting against the harsh light and the white walls. Derek is sitting there reading a magazine laid out on the bed by his legs, he's eating something red from a small cup. Breathing still hurts but the oxygen tube up his nose seems to help; unfortunately the air still burns as it reaches his wounded lungs.

"You're eating Jell-O?" Spencer asks, trying to sit up while Morgan calls in Dr. Kimura. "Is there anymore Jell-O?"

He asks what happened, the entire thing a little fuzzy in his brain. Derek says they got Brown and he inquires about Abby and the other victims and why Dr. Nichols was making anthrax in the first place. As the other two answer, his nose catches a familiar aroma; he looks down at the chair next to Morgan's and sees a grey military style jacket that he knows only too well. His friend catches his glance.

"Your girl is just down the hall getting some coffee. We've both been here since last night."

"What did you tell her?"

"Just said you were in the hospital and figured I'd let you decide what you want her to know."

Almost as if on cue, Michelle walks in; her eyes tearing up when she sees him and he can tell she already cried a few times recently. Her eyes are red and puffy; her hair sticking out in multiple directions and her nose showing signs of irritation from repeated uses of hospital tissues.

"Hey Doc, what do you say we give these two a little privacy?"

As they leave the room, Michelle thanks Derek before walking toward the bed. He smiles at her and she sniffs in before doing the same.

"How are you feeling?" She asks as she stands next to him, taking his bandaged left hand in hers.

"I'm feeling okay, actually." And it's true; sure his lungs and throat feel raw but he can think and articulate and above all, he's alive!

Her voice cracks when she tells him how scared she was and tries to joke about him giving her white hair before her time, but the comedic effect is lost in the tears streaming down her face. He asks her to close the door and after she does, he tells her the truth about why he is actually here; her eyes widen as he speak and when he's done, she doesn't say anything, she just bends down and carefully wraps her arms around him. They stay like this for a long moment, both of them just glad to be together.

"How did the presentation go?" He asks after a while, hoping to lighten the mood a little. A downtown store called her a week earlier wanting to carry her products, they asked her for a meeting to explain how that would work. "Are they going to sell your brand?"

She shakes her head no, and says she didn't make it to the meeting. He's confused, this sounded like a dream come true for her, something she has been working toward for years; it was all she could talk about over the last week and she didn't go.

"Why? I, I thought it was supposed to be the 'opportunity of a lifetime'."

"Because," she says, pushing a strand of hair from his eyes, "as I walked out of my apartment, Derek called me and said something happened to you and that you were here and there was no doubt in my mind that this is where I needed to be."

His entire body seem to fill with warmth, he can't believe she might have just sacrificed her big chance at her dream for him; he doesn't care about the oxygen tube in his nose, he pulls her in and kisses her, hoping in that one gesture to be able to reflect everything he is feeling but doesn't know how to express.


	18. Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 18: Every Cloud Has a Silver Lining**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He spends 2 weeks in the hospital, and every day at 2:30pm just like clockwork, Michelle arrives with a thermos full of coffee, a raspberry scone and her bag full of books for him to read. She had to get special permission from Dr. Kimura to be able to bring in food for a patient, but the doctor was happy to allow it. She stays with him until the evening and leaves a little later every night.

The team comes to check up on him as well; Hotch wants him to take some extra time off over the required sick leave time before coming back to the office but he refuses, getting back to work is something he's very much looking forward to despite it being the reason why he's stuck in here in the first place. Michelle isn't too thrilled with that decision either, he can tell, but she doesn't say anything.

The day he gets out of the hospital, Michelle makes the one train and two busses trek all the way to the hospital just be able to be there when he's released and ride a cab back to his apartment together. He had never realized how demanding going up three flights of stairs can be and half way up he has to use the inhaler Dr. Kimura prescribed him for the next three months. She recommended he uses the bronchodilator whenever need arises or before any intense activity and he can only imagine what he'll look like if he has to puff on his inhaler before chasing an UnSub.

After three days of stubbornly huffing and puffing his way up the stairs, Michelle has enough; she packs his go-bag with clothes, the books he's currently reading and his favorite DVDs as he watches her very confused, when she's done she turns to him and tells him he'll be staying at her place until his lungs are better.

"Only four steps to get in the building and a ground floor apartment," she says as he's about to riposte. "No discussion!"

He has a little under three weeks left of mandatory sick leave at the point and he is feeling incredibly useless; sure he helps Michelle with her business which he's glad to be able to do, but he can't help thinking that he could be of use to his team without having to be in the field. That night he calls J.J. and asks, almost beg, her to see if she could bring him the pile of reports he still had to finish up when all of this happened; she says she has to clear it with Hotch first and the next evening, she's standing at the door with fourteen files in a box.

"Morgan and Prentiss told me to offer theirs as well if you get done with those." She says, as he almost snatches the box from her hand.

"Tell them I might take them up on that." He says a little too excitedly, he looks at J.J. shaking her head a little. "Oh, that was a joke?"

She nods and asks how he's doing; he replies that other than being bored, he is doing a lot better according to his latest X-rays his lungs are healing up nicely and he's been able to take longer walks everyday without inhaler. They chat a little more before J.J. has to head home to Will and Henry and he walks back to Michelle's apartment, beaming at the box in his hands and the possibility of being useful to his team again.

After completing his five weeks, he is allowed back to the office where he does have to go through a battery of tests before he can be allowed in the field again and finally, it's exactly a month and a half after the anthrax incident that he gets the green light.

His first case back bring them all the way across the border into Canada, on what might the most revolting and disturbing case he encountered; he can just tell he's going nightmares about pigs for awhile. He summarizes the case, leaving out the most gruesome details, to Michelle when he comes home at nearly one am and she just can't believe that someone from 'back home' would do something that awful. The entire thing did prove to be a good test for him physically and he only needed his inhaler twice, once as a preemptive measure before climbing a ladder in the barn and the second time after running around in the woods.

Michelle tells him she's glad that he is so happy to be back in the field even if it means that she won't sleep as peacefully as she did during the last month. He replies that he appreciate that she understands how important his job is to him. They go to bed soon after he finished his daily letter to his mom; he wraps his arm around her waist and pulls her closer, burying his face in her neck. She laces their fingers together and wishes him good night; he falls asleep not too long after, smiling at the fact that his life is back to normal. He doesn't even mind too much when he's called in on what should be a day off but since he remembers the last time he was called in that early all too well, he makes sure to tell a mostly asleep Michelle that he loves her before leaving, just in case.

He arrives at the scene just after J.J. and he has already read the file by the time Rossi, Morgan and Prentiss arrive; Hotch still isn't here yet which is quite out of character for him. The team is briefed quickly and then heads for Dr. Barton's house; since he reads the fastest he is stationed at the house to go through the doctor's files, trying to find out who their UnSub might be. He checks with Garcia is Hotch contacted her when she says she hasn't heard from him, he gets this uneasy feeling that something isn't right; he shakes it off, Hotch is probably on his way and he's got hundreds of files to trim down to a list of potential parents with a grudge.

Prentiss calls from Hotch's apartment and informs him that something happened to their supervisor, he knows they can't tell the rest of the team since they need to keep that kid safe. He dives back into the piles with help from the, understandably, hostile Dr. Barton and after a while they get a breakthrough; the UnSub's son hasn't died on the table, he arrived brain dead and Dr. Barton didn't operate. And then, the last piece falls in his lap when Emily calls to tell them that L.C. means Living Children; he runs out after Dr. Barton and that's when he sees Patrick Meyers, gun out, his instincts take over and he pushes Barton out of the way. It takes a few seconds for him to realize what just happened, he heard the gun fire and now there's a searing pain in his leg; he's been shot. The doctor hands him back his gun and Spencer shields him with his body, trying to talk down the grieving father.

He hears the sirens and hopes they arrive in time, he's not sure if he can keep the man from shooting much longer... Meyers raises his revolver and he has no choice but to shoot him, he makes certain not to only injure the man, Dr. Barton tries to look at his wound but he pushes him back, telling him to go take care of Meyers. The pain in his leg is awful, but nothing compare to his recent encounter with anthrax.

The team fusses around him and he tells them to call Emily, that something happened to Hotch. They stay with him until he gets into the ambulance and as the paramedic closes the door on his team, he shakes his head almost laughing despite the pain and all he can think is: 'Michelle is going to want to kill me.'

He sits in the hospital bed, his left leg elevated; he just hung up after J.J. called to check up on him and update him on Hotch's status when he sees her standing in the doorway. He called her as soon as he was able to think straight after his surgery; at first, she thought he was kidding when he said he had been shot but when he said he was serious, he could almost feel her demeanor changing. She started questioning him, her accent thickening as she got anxious. Now she stands before him shaking her head and he can tell she's keeping herself from laughing at the situation; he raises his eyebrows and gives her, what she affectionately calls his 'frog face'.

"You know, Spencer, if you have a thing for hospital gowns, I can talk the doctors into giving you one to take home and you can wear it as you please. That way you won't have to keep coming back here for more." She says laughing as approaches the bed; she caresses his cheek gently, asking how he's feeling.

"I'm pretty good, considering the fact there was a gaping hole in my left leg a few hours ago; although I wish I was with the team rather than stuck here."

She asks where they are, mentioning that she was quite surprised not to see at least Derek hanging around his bed when she arrived. He tells her about Hotch and she asks if he's going to be alright.

"According to J.J., he's out of the woods medically speaking, but they think it's The Reaper."

He sees her expression changing, he told her very little about that case, but after Foyet escaped the papers and news channels all made specials about him. Her demeanor changes from playful to worried and he's not sure if she's even realizing it; she stands a little closer to him than she did a moment before and she bends down to kiss the top of his head which is classic behavior of someone wanting to protect the recipient. He takes her hand in his, hoping to reassure her a little.

The doctor comes by and explains that for a wound like his recovery time can differ from person to person, but that if everything goes well, he should be out of the hospital in two weeks and back to work ten to fourteen days after that but he will need sessions of physical therapy and will probably be on crutches for a while. He looks up into Michelle's dark brown eyes and asks if she would mind sharing her apartment for a little while again because once again his fourth floor apartment might be hard to reach.

"I think we can work something out," she says, smiling.

Later that night, while Michelle is down at the cafeteria to get them dinner, Emily arrives with news of Hotch and his family. He can't help but feel for their supervisor; he already lost Haley and now he's losing his son as well. He hopes they can catch Foyet quickly, he tells Prentiss that if they need fresh eyes at any moment, to make sure to contact him. Michelle gets back with an overfilled food tray; Emily stays with them for another hour before heading home.

Days pass slowly, the pain in his leg is excruciating the first time they make him move it and unfortunately it doesn't get much better over time. His refusal of pain medication almost wavers once or twice. Michelle managed to reschedule her meeting with representative of the store who wants to carry her brand, and he can tell from her face when she barges into his hospital room that it didn't go well.

"Non mais c'est... J'en reviens pas... Pour qui ils s'prennent!" She's so agitated that she doesn't even realizes that for the first five minutes of her being in the room she's speaking exclusively French until he brings it up.

She stops mid-pacing and blinks at him for a moment, seemingly trying to check if it's true. She takes a seat next to his bed and starts explaining what happened, this time in English. It turns out the store wanted to be able to fix their own price on her products, change their names to some more fitting of the company's 'vibe' and wanted Michelle to sell exclusively through them and their website.

"Did they really expect you to agree to that?" It seems hardly believable that they would expect someone to just part with their intellectual property like that. Then, Michelle mentions the first advance they were offering her and now he sees why some people could be tempted to take such a deal.

"They're not getting their claws in my babies. No way, no how!"

He gets out of the hospital after thirteen days, the pain is still very much present but it subsided a little. The team called on him three times during cases when they needed some information they figured he would know which he did. He has physical therapy twice a week and can't wait to be done with crutches; he isn't the most physically able person, in general, but with those, he feels like a nuisance. One afternoon while trying to help Michelle in her lab, he knocked against her perfume organ causing the vial containing her latest olfactive creation to fall and shatter on the ground, ruining an entire week of work. The fact that he can't move much is affecting him and he knows it, he tries his best not to be moody but there is a certain tension in the air due to his irritability.

It feels like a relief for both of them when he goes back to work. He stops by the coffeehouse before driving to Quantico, Michelle is behind the counter training a new barista when he comes in. She introduces him to the new girl, Tara, as her 'genius FBI Agent boyfriend', which causes him to roll his eyes, before telling Tara that she's going to take a quick break. She fusses over him and, even if he probably shouldn't, he must admit he enjoys the extra attention; she tells him to be careful and to stay safe walking him to his car, holding his coffee and scone that he couldn't carry otherwise.

They exchange 'I love you's and a quick kiss before he gets on his way. He barely has time to settle down in Garcia's office when J.J. finds him and tells him to grab his go-bag.

Ten minutes later, he sits in the passenger's seat of the SUV on their way to the airstrip and pulls out his phone to text Michelle. Derek, who's driving, tells him to add to the message that they'll try to save him from himself and not let him get himself shot or contaminated today.

'Headed to Louisville, KY, I don't know when we'll be back. I will call you from the hotel tonight if it turns into an overnight case.'

After that case, he's feeling calmer, having a purpose really does wonders for his mood and a week later he moves back into his own apartment finally able to manage the 33 steps between the ground floor and his. Although, he's glad to have access to all of his things again, the apartment feels strangely empty and quiet. It would seem he got used to Michelle's constant flow of music and, once or twice, finds himself humming some of her favorite songs.

Hotch learns that he lied about being cleared to travel; he is, literally and figuratively, grounded and left at the BAU when the rest of the team leaves for Rossi's hometown. They sit together in Garcia's office and they just chit-chat for a while as she looks into the last victim who is still M.I.A., he amuses himself with one of the multitude of toys she keeps around.

They've gotten closer since she bumped into Michelle and him, months ago, maybe it's because they shared a secret, but it's probably because he's been seeing her more outside of work too. She wasn't kidding it seemed when she said she would make his girlfriend her new friend; she's definitely the one person on the team with whom Michelle as the most affinities and Garcia does pop by their... her apartment every once in a while just to hang out. That's probably why he decides that she's most likely the right person to ask with his inquiry.

"Hey Garcia, can I ask you something?" He's a little nervous and keeps spinning the... (What is that actually?) ...well, some kind of raggedy stuffed animal, around.

"Sure thing, wonderboy! What's eating you?" She turns away from her screens to look at him.

"Well... First of all, I need you to keep this between us for now okay?" She makes a cross over her heart with her finger and feigns to zip her lips shut. "I... I need help, with something, very personal." He sees her eyebrow rising and he realizes how what he just said could have easily been misinterpreted. He quickly adds that it's nothing of a physical nature, his hands flaying. He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves and says: "The last two months made me realize a lot of thing and now, huh, there is a rather important question I want to ask Michelle and I don't know how to get around to it."


	19. In Good Times and In Bad

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 19:** **In Good Times and In Bad**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

"Oh my God, Reid!" Garcia fans herself as she leaps from her chair and toward him; she's smiling and her eyes appear to be tearing up and he has no idea what is happening. She wraps her arms around his neck, knocking his crutches onto the floor in one sweep motion, when she pulls back she's talking at a hundred miles an hour; does he have any idea of how he want to do it? Did he get a ring yet? Some people might say that he's rushing into things, but not to listen to them, that she saw him and Michelle and they're obviously meant to be! What are his measurements she can look up for tux companies online...

She stops when she finally registers his waving hands, shaking head and his, almost certainly, slightly terrified face; she first turns to look at the phone, probably to make sure the team wasn't on speaker. She turns back toward him with a raised eyebrow and her mouth slightly opened.

"Garcia, I am not proposing to Michelle." He says, putting emphasis on every word.

"But, then? What do you need to ask about? Are you breaking up with her?" Her voice goes up two octaves and he fears she might start crying; who knew that someone can be that emotionally invested in someone else's relationship.

"No!" He answers, unable to contain the chuckle in his voice; the idea of him breaking up with Michelle is laughable, he can't even envision a scenario in his mind that could lead him to want them to go their separate way much less one where he would be actually be the one making that move. Garcia looks at him confused when a 'ping!' coming from her computers requires her attention and she gives him a 'hold that thought' look. A moment later, she's on the phone with J.J.; she takes away the whatever-it-is stuffed animal in his hands and they give her the information Garcia's system found and as soon as they hang up, Penelope's questioning look is back, pressing him to finish what he was about to say.

"I, I want to ask Michelle to... huh, to move in together. I've gotten so used to her presence the past few months... and now I'm back in my own apartment, and I'm, figuratively, climbing the walls." He passes his fingers through his hair and stares at his feet as he starts speaking faster. "It's just... wha-what if I ask her she says no? Studies show that non-married couples living together are more committed to each other than those that those that don't... so, if she was to refuse would that mean that she..."

"Reid!" Garcia claps her hands in front of his face to get his attention making him jump in his seat, he winces at the pain shooting from his leg due to the sudden movement. "Sorry. I was just trying to get your attention, you looked about to hyperventilate there. But seriously, I think you should just go for it. You lived together for two months and, from what I saw, you seemed both quite happy and if she says no, it's okay; she may just not be ready."

She gives him a reassuring smile and ruffles his hair, saying it's all going to be okay before suggesting a few ideas about how to set the mood to ask her. They get back to working the case and he has to admit he feels a little... elated, which makes him a little too hyper for Garcia's taste! He decides that Saturday evening, if they aren't on a case, that's when he'll do it, that's when he'll ask her.

The next day they get a local case and he's allowed to join in which he's quite thankful for, but he does feel a little distracted as the week goes on. When Friday night comes, Garcia and he take the elevator down to the parking lot; she gives him a little pep talk and winks at him as he gets in his car.

He spends biggest part of Saturday preparing for 6 O'clock; while the lasagna he made from scratch bakes, he tries to put away all the books taking over his kitchen table as well as different places on the floor, but they mostly end up just being piled up hodgepodge in the second bedroom he uses as a study.

Around five thirty, when he is certain everything is done, he changes into the evening clothes he prepared; black slacks, the black velvet jacket she got him as a 'just because I thought you would like it' gift a few months back and, since she always says how much she likes purple on him, purple button down shirt and tie. Getting dressed since he got shot is still something he has a bit of issue with and the knock on the door, ten minutes early, surprise him. He finishes readjusting his leg brace and heads toward the door as fast as he can manage with the crutches, as passes the bathroom he catches his reflection in the mirror and sees that his hair is still held back by an elastic band from earlier when he was cooking, he quickly undoes the ponytail and pushes the band around his wrist from lack of better place to hide it.

He opens the door and his heart flutters as he lets her in, she comments on how wonderful it smells and on how great he looks.

"Had I known, I would have dressed better than this," she adds, pointing at her jeans and sneakers.

"None sense, you look perfect."

They chit-chat a bit before sitting down for dinner, with every bites he grows a little more nervous; he fidgets with his napkin, rambles on and on about the origin of lasagna and pastas in general and finally he knocks his water glass straight onto her laps. He apologizes at least ten times as she tries to dry herself off with one of the hand towels from the bathroom.

"What is going on with you tonight?" She asks as she sits back down, placing her hand on his. "Why are you so nervous?"

"No reasons," he mumbles staring at the food on his plate; a minute ago, it looked quite appetizing and now he feels nauseous just by looking at it. He moves his gaze away from the plate before adding in a whisper. "...anyway it's ruined now."

"What is?" He didn't think she would actually be able to hear that and he then has no choice but to look up at her, her eyes seem to be staring into his soul and he worries what she might see there. He takes a deep breath and rubs his forehead as if his hand might be able to shield him if she says no.

"I, I wanted to impress you tonight." She starts to answer that he doesn't need to do anything special to impress her but he raises his hand and she falls silent. "As I was saying, I wanted to impress you tonight so that you might be in a positive state of mind when I would... ask you... if, huh, maybe, you would be interested to... huh... to move in together?" Once he finally gets that part out, the little speech he prepared in his head a few days ago starts coming out incredibly fast. "...and multiple studies prove that when non-married couples live together, the relationship is more likely to last longer than when both partners live sepera..."

His word is cut short by a pair of lips on his and as if automatically, his eyes close and his hands move toward her face pulling her closer. She's the one who pulls back first, their faces barely inches from one another.

"I love you, Spencer!" She says, smiling from ear to ear. Her face moves back toward his but just before their lips met again, he asks, just to be clear, if that means yes. "Yes that means I would love for us to live together."

"Thank you for clarifying." He says before pulling her back into another kiss.

They spend the rest of the weekend planning and discussing what they want and what they need, evaluating and strategizing how to go around to finding an apartment that will satisfy them both. They need a place big enough for Michelle to have her lab and for Spencer to have an office but he tells her that if they find a place that they both want that only has two bedrooms, he can absolutely make due with a desk in their bedroom. They both agree that they want to stay in the neighborhood and Sunday evening, they start looking up places online, dreaming of their future together.

It takes them two weeks and six apartments visited over the weekends before they find the one; two bedrooms, one bathroom, nicely-sized kitchen and living room, on a first floor, with a little patio/garden area and what the realtor calls a 'den' which will become his office. The lease is signed the very next day and two weeks later, with help from the team and Michelle's coworkers from the Java Tree, they finally move in their new apartment. Michelle has to close down her website for a few weeks until she can get her lab set up again and takes on most of the unpacking. They agree to host their housewarming/Halloween party when he returns from a case in Los Angeles.

For the evening, he turns himself into the Phantom of the Opera and Michelle becomes a FBI agent herself as Dana Scully; they have the team over and some of Michelle's friends and coworkers from the coffeehouse. He isn't really one for parties normally but he is enjoying himself, it feels great to see everyone relax and happy compare to what they face every day. Prentiss, dressed up as Trinity from the Matrix, is talking with someone in a penguin costume who might be Michelle's boss, Josh, and Hotch who's dressed up as SSA Aaron Hotchner; he can see easily see that Allison, in her very revealing ladybug costume, seems to have taken a liking to Derek and he doesn't to mind at all. J.J. and Will unfortunately had to leave early when their babysitter called saying she might have gotten food poisoning. Michelle shows off her brand new lab to Penelope, who has to hold her Cheshire Cat tail to make sure she doesn't break any of the fragile bottles and asks her opinions about two new fragrances that she created. It's almost 2 am when the last of their guests leave; Michelle wraps her arms around his waist and declares the evening quite a success.

He finally gets done with the crutches and she takes him out 'cane shopping' to celebrate it. They find one that makes them both laugh with its ridiculous toucan head and another that with his long coat and scarf makes him look like The Godfather according to Michelle. After debating the pros and cons of both for a while, they leave the store with the toucan.

Their first anniversary becomes regrettably tied to one of the teams' most painful memory and he thanks whatever deity might be listening to have her holding his hand as they lower Haley Hotchner's coffin into the ground. Afterward, at the wake, he takes her aside and promises to make it up to her and she just waves it off, telling him that there will many more anniversaries to come and that today, his family needs him. He corrects her, saying that it's not his family, but theirs. He feels guilty toward both Hotch and her when they have to leave on the case; this isn't a night where they should have to go anywhere.

"Be safe," she tells him before he heads down the corridor. He turns back to look at her again and she gives him as small wave before rejoining Kevin and Will at their table.

Slowly but surely, life comes back to normal; Hotch comes back to the BAU, he starts being able to walk short distance unassisted, they celebrate her birthday, he can walk around without his cane, some cases are won, some are lost, but all in all, life is good.

But as they say, nothing ever last does it?


	20. Hospital, Pay, Knight, Book?

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 20: Hospital, Pay, Knight, Book?**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

She kisses his forehead before leaving for work around 6 am like every morning and just like every morning, he grumbles, rolls over and goes back to sleep. Unlike every morning though, he sleeps through his alarm; when he does wake up, he realizes he barely has time to shower and get dressed before getting in his car, if he wants to get to work on time.

As he sits in the old Volvo, he texts Michelle to let her know he won't be able to stop by for his morning coffee. She doesn't reply but Mondays being their busiest day, it's nothing surprising.

He steps into the BAU with five minutes to spare and heads straight for the coffee maker. As soon as the dark and sugary liquid passes his lips, he already feels more awake, that's when he realizes that Morgan, Garcia and Prentiss are all gathered over his desk, hunched over something he cannot make out.

"I still don't get it. Maybe we got this wrong, it might be 'to pay' and not 'to buy'?"

"Prentiss, granted I don't as much about languages as you do, but 'hospital', 'to pay', 'knight' and 'book' doesn't make much more sense to me."

"What's going on?" Spencer asks, before taking another sip of coffee. All three turn around and he sees a large brown envelope sitting on his desk, and where the address should be, there is only a series of four pictographs.

"That was left at the reception desk for the BAU by a messenger this morning, we were trying to figure out what those meant when we thought you, our favorite boy genius, would probably find the answer the fastest... but then you got in later than usual this morning and we figured we'd give it a shot." Garcia pats his chair, signaling him to sit down; she's obviously a lot more invested in finding out more about the mysterious envelope than Morgan and Prentiss.

He sits and sets down his mug before turning his attention the crude drawings; first is a building with a red cross on it, the next is two people passing a dollar bill between them, then what looks like a very poorly drawn knight in armor and the last is a stick figure holding a book. His brain comes up with the solution in seconds.

"It seems it's addressed to me." Morgan asks how he came to that conclusion and he explains that the last one obviously represents 'to read' and from there it was quite easy to figure out the rest; knights are referred to as 'sire', the first image if you look closely enough you can see a little stick figure the hospital's window so 'doctor' and the second one, based on the others is 'to spend'. "Dr. Spencer Reid. Oh, by the way, did you know that one of the earliest modern examples of the extensive use of pictographs was designed by George Dow, for the London and North Eastern Railway and variety of pictographs was used to indicate facilities available at or near each station?"

"Reid, you know I love you, but please just open the envelope, that suspense is killing me!" Says Garcia, who seems to be literally vibrating with anticipation. Unfortunately for her, J.J. comes by to tell them they are needed in the briefing room.

They're being briefed on their next case when his phone rings, which in and of itself is quite unusual but then he looks at the caller ID and recognizes the number for the Java Tree; Michelle and him agreed a while back to only call each other at work in case of emergency and why she isn't calling from her cell phone is beyond him. He excuses himself and steps outside of the room to take the call.

"Hello?"

"Huh, hi, Spencer? It's Allison, from the Java, sorry to bother you but, is Michelle sick? She hasn't shown up for her shift this morning and I can't get a hold of her on her cell..."

The words hit him like a ton of brick, the file, he didn't even realize he was holding, falls at his feet spreading papers and pictures all over the floor. Time seems to have slowed down; nothing seems real, not his heart beating like a drum or the voice calling his name at the other end of the line. All he can do is stand there, frozen.

He's rather surprise when he snaps back to reality to see Hotch standing in front of him asking what is going on; he looks up at the older man but he can't speak, his voice is stuck in his throat and he can barely thinks, his entire body feels numb. His hand closes tightly over his phone; he feels cold and wraps his arms around himself almost as if to protect himself from the reality of the words he's about to say. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears as he whispers: "Michelle left for work this morning but never arrived... she's missing, Hotch."

He's uncertain how, Hotch probably maneuvered him back into the room, but he finds himself sitting down, his head between his legs, and it's only now that he feels his lungs are burning. How long as he been hyperventilating? The team is standing all around him; he can hear their voices but can't make out what is being said.

"Garcia, check all hospitals in the Van Ness area and, just in case, check for admissions of Jane Does matching Michelle's description. Dave, you and Prentiss go to Raleigh and tell them we're sorry we can't have the entire team over, but that another urgent case came up which directly affects a member of the team and let's hope they understand. As soon as you're done, come back here, even if it's just a kidnapping for ransom, I'd rather have everyone close by, just in case. J.J. ..."

"I know, Hotch, no new cases until we find her." He feels J.J.'s hand rubbing against his back, and looks up to see the determined look on everyone's faces. Michelle's passport photo smiles at him from the plasma screen and he can't even tell when they've put it up. Morgan is picking up the files from the Raleigh case to clean up the work area. Rossi and Prentiss are already out the door on their way to their desks to get their go-bags and as his gaze follows them, it falls on the large brown envelope on his desk. He gets up so fast that he nearly knocks J.J. to the ground, he runs down steps, grabs it and tears it opened. He empties the content on his desk as the rest of the team joins him; staring back at him are two black and white 8 by 10 pictures, one of himself leaving their apartment in the morning while the other is a close zoom of Michelle, at the coffeehouse, pulling him by his tie into a kiss. On top of the picture sits a typed note addressed to him and a burned DVD with a label saying: 'Watch me!'.

Behind him, he can hear Morgan who's failing miserably at hiding the frustration in his voice as he tells J.J. and Hotch: "I don't think it's gonna be as simple as an abduction for ransom."


	21. Disk Two

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 21: Disk Two**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle and this particular case, though.

* * *

'Do not fear,  
for I am near,  
no more mediocrity,  
I am setting you free.'

He reads and rereads the note, racking his brain to see if it is a passage from any book he's ever read or just bad poetry. He ask their normally oh-so-happy tech analyst to look it up online as well, and she finds it to be an edited section of an incredibly grim poem from the turn of the century about a man's brain telling him who kills his lover in order to access a higher level of understanding of the universe.

"The UnSub rewrote it though, the original says:

'Do not fear,  
for you are near,  
no more mediocrity,  
you are setting yourself free.'

It seems whoever wrote this thinks you needed their push." The blonde looks up from her screen at him; her usual smile has vanished as soon as she heard the news. She puts her hand on his and adds: "We'll find her, Reid, I know we will."

"Thanks, Penelope."

He's about to walk out of her office when he turns around and asks her to check the whereabouts of Michelle's ex-fiancé just in case, he's had a bad feeling about that man since Michelle told him of his existence. He knows his head isn't fully in the game, all he can think about is that someone took the woman he loves and is now taunting him; he can't just sit around and wait for something to happen nor can he just let his emotions get the best of him, Michelle needs him at his best and he has try to do what they do everyday finding the UnSub and saving the victim.

J.J. and Hotch head to D.C. to canvas the neighborhood where Michelle disappeared after Morgan refuses to leave his side which he is grateful for, instead he runs him through all the usual questions they have to ask the families. He knows it's a necessary measure but he feels like they're wasting precious time; she's already been missing for four hours and despite his best effort to block them out, he knows all the statistics about abduction.

Garcia bravely offers to watch the DVD by herself and report back on what it contains, but he won't have any of it. The envelope, the note, everything seems to have been made for him; he can only expect that the DVD will be same. He asks if she would mind if he watched it alone in her office, for a second, she stares at him in disbelief but after a few moments, she nods and leaves the room.

He passes his fingers through his hair, pulling at it a little as he always seems to do when he's highly stressed; he closes his eyes for minute and asks whatever deity might be listening to let her be alright. He stares blankly at the monitor before being able to hit 'play'; he finally does, fearing the worst.

The video is black and white, it shows a room, probably in a basement given the blank, concrete walls, something hangs from the ceiling but he can't really make out what they are. Suddenly, he hears the staccato voice of man and realizes it's a computer reading a text.

"Hello Dr. Reid," it says. "I hope the pictograms amused the children. It took a long time, but the day is finally here. From now on, you will not suffer the pain of life with a lesser mind." And with that, the video ends.

That's all there is, nothing more to go on, no clues as to how to get her back, he takes the DVD out of the computer and it requires all of his will power not to simply throw it at the opposite wall. His entire body is shaking as he walks to the briefing room where Morgan is working; the other man standing with his back to the door as he discusses the case over the phone with Hotch.

"Okay. Yeah. Hotch, it doesn't seem good. Garcia found the origin of the poem and it's bad, man, it talks about killing a lover. It's like the UnSub thinks he's saving Reid by taking Michelle away. He seems to think that Michelle is keeping Reid from some sort of higher purpose. Yeah, I agree. I'll get Garcia on that. He's watching it right now. He asked to watch it alone. I know, but you and I would have done the same thing. Yeah, okay, we'll see you when you get back."

"What did they find?" As he speaks, Derek jumps and turns around to face him, trying to keep his expression calm as he asks how much he heard. "Most of it."

The other man sits and points to the chair in front of him, Spencer sits down, still holding the DVD between his fingers. Morgan is uncomfortable, which he tries to hide probably for his sake, but they've known each other long enough that he can easily pick up all the subtle signs and he can't help but think that this can't be good.

"They didn't find anything. A few people remember seeing Michelle talking to someone in a late model, blue car and then getting in, but that's it. No one could give a description of the driver and she didn't seem coerced. I'm sorry, Reid, I wish I had better news for you."

"Sh-she wouldn't get in a car with someone she doesn't know, but... but she probably would if the UnSub threaten to hurt someone else if she didn't. Is Garcia looking to try and locate the car? We should check for any owner in the tri-state area who ever faced kidnapping or stalking charges, this can't be a first time offender."

"Garcia's looking, but Reid, you know how long that can take especially with this little to go on. Right now, what we need is to make a list of anyone who could want to hurt either one of you."

The frustration and the anger that have been bubbling inside him take over; he can't stand just sitting around anymore, he's on his feet and screaming.

"We're wasting time! She's out there with some lunatic and we're not doing anything about it! She's in danger and she needs us! She needs me! I'm not letting her go through the same horror I did with Hankel!"

Derek grabs him by the shoulders and stares him down. The outburst got his heart thumping and he's shaking, he pushes his hands through his hair, he pulls at it and tries to calm himself down. His breath is short and shallow; he shoves his hands into his pockets to stop them from trembling.

"Reid! I'm on your side, man. We all are. We all want to find Michelle, but we can't do it if you don't help us." The weight of the situation presses down on him even more as he realizes this the first time Morgan ever referred to her just by her fist name while talking to him, no little teasing, no 'your sweetheart' or even 'your girl' just Michelle. He sits down, passes his hand over his face before resting them on his neck as he apologizes for his behavior. A few moments later, J.J. enters the room, followed by Hotch who places a DVD identical to one in Spencer's hand on the table.

"Security found this in the elevator twenty minutes ago. We were just downstairs trying to see if we could find who dropped it off, but unfortunately, it seems the UnSub hacked into our security cameras. Garcia is trying to recuperate the footage right now."

Hotch asks him to put the first DVD in and everyone sits down to watch it, trying to find clues but just like him, they come up with nothing more than he did. When it's done, he stands up, grab the second one and places it in the player; he sits back down and hits 'play' on the remote without looking at the rest of the team, he can feel their worried looks on him and can't bare to see it in their eyes.

On the screen, the first image is the same, the same concrete walls and strange things dangling from the ceiling, but unfortunately, it only last a moment. A tall figure walks into the frame, face hidden by a hood; the UnSub is pulling Michelle behind him. She's fighting but her movements are erratic and uncoordinated. He pushes her into the wall with enough force that she lets out a blood-curling scream despite her drugged state.

"Spence, maybe you should wait outside. You don't need to watch this."

"Actually, I really do." He snaps back; he needs to find her, to save her, hopefully before more harms comes to her.

From where he sits and even if the video quality is rather poor, he can tell a black eye is forming over her left eye and her bottom lip is slit open. The UnSub grabs her left wrist and reaches up, that's when he realizes what is coming down from the ceiling; they're belt restraints. She tries to pull away from him, but can't. After he's done, her body hanging by the wrists, she's still trashing around, and he can hear her grunting as she tries to get the restraints off; he always knew his wonderful girlfriend was a fighter and, with some types of UnSubs, it might keep her alive.

"Shut up." Says the computer voice at full volume.

"Why are you doing this?" Over the years he heard her voice filled with some many different tones and emotions; joy, sadness, laughter, pleasure, pain, he heard her whisper and scream but never as she sounded so faint, so tired and it pierces his heart to hear it.

"Why?" The computer answers. "You know very well why. Because girls like you, stupid, ordinary girls are what ruins the intellectual gene pool. But no more. You should be happy; he'll be saved from this fate you were condemning him to."

"You leave Spencer out of this!" Michelle screams. He closes his eyes for a moment, it's his fault that she's in this situation and still, she's worried about what might happen to him and tries to protect him.

"You know that is impossible. Now, it's time for you to sleep." The UnSub moves back into the frame, a gun in hand. He looks away, but what he hears isn't a gun shot. He turns back to screen just before the video cuts but long enough to see Michelle unconscious, her glasses have disappeared and a dark shape already appearing where the gun came in contact with her head.

Everyone stare at the black screen for a moment in silence, he looks at his colleagues, his family, and everyone's expression is different; Garcia has her glasses in her hand and dries her tears with her sleeve, smearing her makeup. Sometimes he forget how close they've gotten, despite being primarily his girlfriend, Michelle managed to sneak her way into his teammates' hearts. Derek's fists and jaws are clenched tight; it's easy to tell that if he had the UnSub in front of him, he would be making him pay. J.J.'s looking at him, trying to comfort him without saying a word. Hotch is stoic, as usual, but his mind is probably going a 100 miles an hour to come up with the best possible plan.

"Well..." Hotch clears his throat before continuing, bringing the team's attention back to him. "Now we know this isn't really about Michelle, it's about Reid. Now, we need to get a profile together."

They establish that the UnSub has to be a frail white male approximately 5 foot 8, at least from what they could make out of him in the video, between 25 and 35, who Reid must have had enough contact with for Michelle to be willing to get into his car. He's obviously very intelligent, but it's probably the only aspect of his life in which he feels adequate. He probably has a low level job, with people he considers intellectually inferior, maybe something like retail which gives the flexibility in hours to allow him to stalk Reid. He's has great computer skills and some knowledge of forensic counter measures as proven by his hacking into the security cameras and the fact he uses his computer to talk for him in order to make it impossible for Reid to identify his voice. They also believe that it is not his first offence and that he will have some charges against him for stalking, maybe even some restraining orders.

He lists every single males he came in contact with more than once during the last three months and Garcia starts looking them up between criminal records, MENSA members in the D.C. and owners of blue, late model cars.

"Okay, that narrows it down." Her fingers are rushing across the keyboard as he stares at the screen. "And we've got four potentials. You'd think MENSA would scan their members better. Let see what these records are for... David Lloyd, DUI. Shane Williams, public indecency. Carl Jones, another DUI. And last but not the least, Adam Malcolm... Oh my God, it has to be him! 2 restraining orders, he's been stalking professors at UDC."

She barely finishes scribbling down the address, before he rips the paper from her hand and runs out of the room with the team on his heels.


	22. When The Profile is Wrong

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 22: When The Profile is Wrong**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle and this particular case, though.

* * *

They search Malcolm's apartment, car and place of work and come up empty. She's not there, he doesn't have her. He is starting to lose hope, it's been 23hrs and in the meantime, another DVD arrived like clockwork, six hours after the last one. It shows Michelle, still hanging by her wrists as the UnSub hoses her with ice cold water, she cries and screams as the computer voice talks about how only a strong mind can survive that kind of trauma, that soon she will be only a shell and he won't have to endure her presence any longer.

Now they fear what the next one will contain. Prentiss and Rossi get back to Quantico and are brought up to speed, they go back over the profile three times and they can't come up with any new suspect. Morgan proposes to do a cognitive interview of the days represented in the photographs and they sit down facing one another.

"Now close your eyes and go back to that morning. Tell me what's happening and how you feel."

"I'm walking fast. The air is really crisp even if it's spring, I'm regretting leaving my scarf at home. It's Mimi's birthday and I want to give her her present before I head to work. I'm so excited I forget to look as I cross the street and almost get run over. There's a bunch of kids on the sidewalk on their way to school, they're walking slowly and taking the entire sidewalk, so I cut on someone's grass. I finally get to the coffeehouse; I push the door open and the smell of coffee hits me like a wave. She's finishing at the counter with a customer, she sees me as I approach and she smiles. She fills a large cup with coffee and places it next to the raspberry scone on the pick-up side. I wish her a happy birthday and tell her I have her gift. I grab the small box from my bag and I'm disappointed that the ribbon got squished. She tears the paper and leaves it on the counter. She sees the jewelry box and gives me a surprise look. Her eyes fill with tears when she opens it and see my mom's bracelet. I tell her, that I know it's not a ring, but it's a promise for the future; it's a commitment from me to her. I start saying 'I love you.' but before I can finish she's pulling me by my tie, in front of everyone, and she kisses me. She lets go, tells me I need to hurry or I'll be late to work. I give her one last quick kiss, grab my coffee and scone and I make my way to door..." He stops talking, realization all over his face. "Wait! Garcia, pull up the last video please and zoom on Michelle's right wrist."

The image comes up and the bracelet isn't there. There's a knock at the door, a messenger is holding his notepad for a signature in one hand, and the other holds a small envelope. Rossi grabs it and opens it, as he signs, Morgan already interrogating the messenger to know who paid for the delivery, which turns out to be a dead end, since it was delivered to this guy's company by another bike messenger.

Garcia says she's going to her office to try and find out more about both messengers and their company, but Reid can tell she just can't stomach what might be on DVD number 4. He feels nauseous as Rossi puts it into the DVD player.

On the screen, Michelle is shaking, her clothes and hair still completely soaked. Her clothes are torn in multiple places and one can see bruising and cuts on the exposed skin. She keeps asking why, over and over. The computer voice speaks louder than her, going on and on, telling her that if he wanted to find her, he would have. The fact that she's still here is proof that Dr. Reid does not care about her and now it's time to show the world what she really is.

The UnSub walks into the frame; he's holding an electric razor and a knife. He shaves her head and when he's done, takes the knife to her head. She's screaming, tossing, trying to kick, to get away from him. The UnSub punches her, hard enough to render her unconscious and goes back to the task. He can't look away, his eyes are glued to the woman he loves, it feels like the only way he can somehow, be there for her. When the UnSub moves away, they can see five bloody letters have been carved into Michelle's scalp. IDIOT.

The UnSub approaches the camera to stop the recording and that's when he sees it; his mother's bracelet, on the UnSub's wrist. He knows he's seen that wrist before, he knows that strange looking birthmark.

"It's Tara. She's been working with Michelle at the coffeehouse for eight months." He says, his voice filled with disbelief.

It only takes Garcia a few minutes to find her address and by that time they're already stepping into the SUVs; they keep her on speaker phone as they drive while she gives them more information about their UnSub.

"Okay, so her name is Tara Allen, she was a child prodigy, like you Reid. She got her PhD in Physics at Cambridge at age 14, she's been a member of the DC MENSA group since she was 12. She drives a blue, 2007 Hyundai Elentra. And she was arrested two years ago while she was on a research grant at Harvard for stalking a student... who, according to his photo ID, looks a lot like our resident genius. She claimed he was in love with her and he said he had only met her once during a guest lecture. So, it seems you guys were right about everything except the fact she's a girl."

"Thanks Garcia." He manages to articulate even if he could barely make out what she's saying, his thoughts concentrated on Michelle as if trying to telepathically tell her to hold on, that he's on his way.

"Keep me updated, okay?"

They arrive at the address; the house looks like it just came out of a magazine. Everything looks perfect... a little too perfect. They all agree that the best way to proceed in order to limit the risk is to play to her delusion regardless of how much it pains them. He walks up to the front door, Rossi is standing by but out of view as the other check the back.

"Tara? Tara, it's Spencer. Spencer Reid." He tries to keep his voice even as he knocks even if for once he feels like taking Morgan's approach and just kick the door out of its hinges. There's no answer. He grabs his revolver by the nose and breaks the large glass panel. Screw subtlety!

Inside the house is as immaculate as outside expect for the piles and piles of books everywhere that freakishly remind him of his old apartment. They check and clear every room on the first floor and everything seems oddly normal. J.J. and Rossi go up to the second floor as he opens the basement door, leading the way. He gets to the bottom of the stairs and that's when he sees them; Tara is standing behind Michelle's limp body, holding the knife to her throat and she dares to smile as she sees him. He can barely keep his anger in check when she starts talking.

"You made it! I knew you'd find me, I thought it would be faster, but hey, wasn't it fun?"

"Tara, put down the knife. Please?" He holsters his gun, and raises his hands. He tells the rest of the team to do the same, it's not about them, but about Tara and him. He keeps his voice even, knowing that the first change in tone could mean the end for Michelle although his entire body is screaming for him to just grab Michelle and take her far, far away from this place. "I'm here. You don't need to hurt her anymore."

"See, I knew you'd understand. I did it all for you. She's holding you back; you need someone who's on the same level as you, someone intellectually stimulating." She grabs Michelle's chin shaking her head. "She can never give you what I can."

"I know, I realize that." He takes a step forward, he's almost close enough to reach them. "Now, let's just let her go, and you and I can be together. Like it's meant to be."

His voice breaks and Tare immediately reacts; she backs away, pulling his bloodied, unconscious girlfriend with her, the blade pressed against her throat.

"Tara, you'll go to jail if you don't let Michelle go and then we can't be together." He feels more nauseous at every word he has to say and he clenches his jaw to keep his appearance of composure.

"You're right." She looks up at Prentiss who's standing right behind him. "Isn't my fiancé intelligent? Look at the beautiful bracelet he gave me. It was his mom's, you know."

While she's distracted, talking to Emily, he jumps forward knocking the knife out of her hand and in her surprise, she lets go of Michelle and seconds later he's tackling her to the ground. He holds her face down against the cold concrete, her hands behind her back as Emily cuffs her.

"Tara Allen, you're under arrest for the abduction Michelle Rousseau. Prentiss, get her out of here!"

She grabs Tara and lead her up the stairs while the other woman raving and screaming and he has no idea what she's saying, all of his attention is on attempting to untie Michelle's restraints which would be easier if his hands weren't shaking like leaves. Tears burn his eyes when she falls into his arms; he quickly checks her pulse, it's weak but steady.

He carries her up to the first floor, with strength he didn't know he possessed but nearly crashes as he reaches the landing. After that everything is a blur, someone, Morgan maybe, takes Michelle out of his arms and carries her into the ambulance as J.J. guides him in the same direction. Hotch tells him something about meeting them there, but he's not too sure what he is talking about. Emily talks to him and place something small and delicate in his hand, but he doesn't even registers what it is. His head feels foggy, his body feels numb, his heart is pounding. A door closes next to him and he can tell somebody is moving, but all he can concentrate on is the small hand in his. She's alive, that's all that matters.


	23. A Promise For The Future

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 23: A Promise For The Future**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

They arrive at the hospital and a nurse forces him to let go of her hand as they take Michelle into the ICU. He sits alone in the cold and empty waiting room for a moment, and as the adrenaline comes down, he cracks. The sobs shake his entire body; he's holds his head in his hands, his hair falling around his face like a curtain. He feels something hard pressed against the palm of his hand; it's the bracelet, that's what Emily gave him as he got into the ambulance. Somehow, that makes him cry even harder, he gave Michelle the bracelet as a promise of a beautiful future together and this is what it got her.

When the others walk into the waiting room and see him like this they suspect the worst. They stare in silence, J.J. sits beside him and he grabs on to her like an infant to his mother. Rossi stops a nurse and demands to know what's going on. She explains that due to the high levels of benzodiazepine in Michelle's system they first need to make sure that she won't overdose before they concentrate on anything else, but for now, everything seem to point in a positive direction. The feeling of relief is visible in team; he tells them that he understands if they want to head home, it's been a tiring 36 hours.

"No way, kid, none of us is leaving until she wakes up," says Morgan as he takes a sit across from him, "Michelle's your girlfriend and that makes her important to all of us."

They hear the clacking of heels on the linoleum floor as Garcia arrives with Kevin in tow. Her makeup leaked down her face which kind of reminds him of a raccoon, and for some reason, it makes him smile. Her voice is shaking and her breathing uneven from running as she asks: "So, is she okay? Please say she's going to be fine!"

"They just told us, it's looking positive." He's barely done uttering the words that, Garcia's arms wrap around his neck, squeezing him tightly.

"Oh, I'm so glad! I was so scared!"

"Garcia, I, I can't breath."

She lets him go and backs away; the air burns as it goes down to his lungs again and he doesn't even mind, he's just glad that she's here. She's apologizing as the others laughs; he pushes his hair away from his face and looks all of them, he's thankful that despite all the bad things that his job brings day in and day out, it allowed him to find this family.

"Thanks everyone. It really means a lot to have you all here."

By the time the nurse comes back tell them Michelle is going to be okay, five hours have passed; Hotch and Morgan left to go get some coffee at the cafeteria, while Kevin sleeps on Penelope's shoulder, the rest of them are in different stages of wakefulness. He can't tear his eyes away from the ICU doors the entire time.

"She was in a bad shape, but she's stable now. She has three broken ribs and a broken wrist as well as multitude of cuts and bruises. We'll check her for a possible concussion when she wakes up."

"What about..." His voice shakes; it's so awfully hard to say, he takes a deep breath and swallows hard, steadying his voice. "What about the lacerations to her scalp? Will the scars fade away?"

"Unfortunately, the scarring will probably be permanent. Luckily, they shouldn't be too visible once her hair grows back."

He sits back down and sighs. The guilt is claiming him again, his hand finds his pocket and it closes around the sobriety chip he normally carries around his bag; he switched it to his pocket earlier after learning of her disappearance, knowing that he would probably be needing it.

They have to wait another two hours before the nurse comes back to tell them she's awake. Fear clings at his heart; will she even want to see him? After all, it's his fault that she's in that hospital bed in the first place. What if she never wants to see him again? What if she hates him?

It takes all his courage to cross the threshold and enter the bright white room. The others are waiting outside to give them privacy, but he kind of wishes they were with him. Her eyes are close as he approaches; she's got a feeding tube lodged in her arm and oxygen up her nose, her head is partially covered in gauze and she has a cast on her wrist. Her face is mainly purple and despite everything, he still finds her flawlessly beautiful. He stands next to her and pulls her bracelet out of pocket; he wants to place it back around her wrist where it belongs but he doesn't know she will ever want to see it again and he puts it away before taking her left hand in his.

"Mimi?" He says as softly as possible, chocking a little on the second syllable.

"Spencer?" Her eyes opens and she squints, trying to focus on him without much success. "Have you seen my glasses?" He didn't even think to ask the team if anyone found them at the crime scene, he makes a mental note to do so later. He can't believe how normal she sounds in spite of everything, he knows it won't last; she might be resilient but the trauma of what happened will hit sooner or later, but hopefully, it's a good sign that she'll be able to recover both physically and emotionally and if she still want him, he'll be there for her every step of the way.

"We don't have them, I'm sorry. How are you feeling?" His thumb creates indistinct patterns on the back of her hand, in what he hopes to be a soothing motion.

"Like I was kidnapped by the creepy girl I work with." She attempts to laugh, but her throat seems too dry and he helps her drink some water. "It's like opposite day; I'm the one in the hospital bed and you're the one on your feet."

A joyless chuckle gets caught in his throat, it's true, for the first time he understand how she must have felt when he got hurt in the field; helpless, worried, angry that someone would do such a thing to the one you love and just wishing that you could to take all the pain away.

"I'm so sorry for all this."

"It's not your fault..." She reaches up to caress his face, despite the heart-rate monitor attached to her finger; she says that but he knows he never feel that way, from now on he owes it to her to fix this. "No one could have predicted that Tara was crazier than a bag of ferrets, even your big brain, my Beautiful Boy, couldn't have figured this would happen."

He's about to protest when Emily knocks and asks if they can come in. Michelle smiles as they walk into the room, still squinting trying to see them. He remembers seeing Garcia arriving with his bag; he asks her where it is and Kevin hands it to him. He rummages through it as the others try to all find a place to stand around the bed; he finally finds what he was looking for. It won't be a perfect solution but at least it should help a little. He places his own glasses on his girlfriend's nose.

"I know your vision is worst than mine and these don't take your astigmatism into account, but is it a bit better?"

She nods, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank you all for saving me, I wouldn't be here otherwise."

Derek takes a step forward, resting a large hand on Michelle's shoulder, and in one sentence he sums up what everyone in the room is feeling: "Don't worry about it, pretty girl, nobody messes with this family and gets away with it!"


	24. Accepting Reality

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 24: Accepting Reality**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

Michelle is kept under observations for a week and he spends every single second he can by her side, they do get one case on which he has no choice but to go and every spare moment he has to himself he calls to check up on her. No one on the team even gives him grief about it, quite the opposite actually, everyone requesting updates on her status.

The horrible reality of what happened to her started sinking in about 48hrs after her admission in the hospital. He was reading to her, William Goldman's Princess Bride, voices and all, when it falls on her like a ton of bricks; she raised her hand to scratch her head and her fingers came in contact with the gauze. Her mouth made a perfect 'O' shape and she let out a little strangled noise, her eyes wide with confusion for a few seconds before they filled with tears, her entire mental wall crumbling before his eyes. He stood up from the chair, leaving Wesley and Inigo's sword fight behind him; he sat on her bed next to her and pulled her to him, she clung to him and her tears wetting their way through his sweater vest. He didn't say a word, there was nothing to say really, no amount of comforting whispered white lies could make the reality of what happened any less awful, but he held her until the sobbing stops, knowing all too well what she's going through and this is what he wished someone would have done for him.

The nightmares starts soon after that, forcing her to relive the torture every time she closes her eyes; her doctor recommends that she sees a therapist at least once a week to try and start to deal with what happened, and despite her original reserve, she has her first session before leaving the hospital. That's around that time that he starts having trouble sleeping too, probably due to the guilt that claws at him every time he sees her; she tries to keep a strong face for his sake as well as her own but he can easily see through her act.

The day of her release from the hospital, he arrives an hour early, having been nearly unable to sleep. As he walks into her room, she's fighting with her shoelaces, trying to tie them without moving her broken wrist too much; it's the first time since she got admitted that he sees her wearing normal clothes instead of a hospital gown and the sight warms his heart.

"Let me take care of that," he says, kneeling down in front of her as she tries faintly to riposte.

Her head is still wrapped in bandages but he can see some dark hair starting to peak out and in a few days she will be able to have them removed; the black eye is now a yellow-green color and should fade away soon enough but her cut lip is healed and she's looking more like herself.

The doctor comes by for her final recommendations and after the discharge papers are signed, they slowly make their way to his car. She takes small steps trying as best as she can to keep her ribs from moving too much under their bandages. He helps her into the car, trying to touch her as little as possible; since the nightmares started she got really reticent about anyone touching her and he pierces him like a knife to the heart that he can't hold her after she wakes up screaming and trashing or that he can't kiss away her fears. He never was a very tactile person, but he got so used to her hand in his that it feels just wrong not to be able to lace their fingers together.

He closes the car door and before putting the key in the ignition, he looks at her and she's smiling back at him.

"Let's go home, Spencer," she says, softly.

They take it slow once she gets home; they try to sleep in the same bed that night but during the night he rolls over a little too close to her and she goes into a panic. She breaks down into tears and tells him how scared she is that she might never be okay again; he sits on the floor in front of her and mentions that it's way too early in her healing process to expect things to go back to normal straight away. After that, he starts sleeping on the couch.

She gets her bandages taken off; her hair has grown back about a quarter of an inch but unfortunately it's not yet long enough to hide the word now scaring her scalp. That night, his cravings for dilaudid, fueled by his anger at the world and his culpability get stronger when he wakes up to her crying in the bathroom; he knocks after trying the doorknob.

"Michelle, can you let me in?"

After a moment, the door unlocks and he walks in, she's on the floor in her underwear and a sweatshirt with the hood up hiding most of her face. He sits on the side of the tub and asks if she had a nightmare; she shakes her head and tries to dry her eyes. She needs a moment before she can actually tell him what's wrong.

"Just look at me... I'm ugly..." She pushes the hood off and he can tell she's been picking at the part of her scar that comes down a little past her hairline and onto her forehead.

He moves onto the floor in front of her and very slowly, giving her time to move away if she decides to, he puts his hand on her calf. She doesn't pull away and he takes it as a small victory.

"That's not true, I know you can't see it right now, but you're beautiful and you're strong and these..." He points to her scars. "...they just prove that."

She fidgets nervously with his mother's bracelet which was one of the first things she asked about when she first woke up at the hospital, distressed that she might have lost it; it hasn't left her wrist since. She's averting her eyes as she whispers a question that makes his heart ache to reach out for her: "Do you still... do you love me anyway?"

She looks up at him, her eyes filled with tears, she's seriously asking and he can't help but wonder if he's done anything to make her feel unattractive or unloved. Despite them having been together for over a year and a half now, he's still not the greatest when it comes to expressing his emotions but tonight, he knows he has to try.

"I, I love you more than I can say. Honestly, I never expected that something like this would happen to me and I was okay with that, I guess not knowing what you're missing does help." He chuckles a little, her deep brown eyes studying his face and for some reason, that along what he says next make him blush a little. "And now, I simply can't imagine my life without you in it."

Garcia comes by to check on her a few times; one day even arriving with an enormous gift basket filled with candies and a teddy bear dressed up as a doctor. When Michelle tells her it's too much, she reveals that it's not just from her, but from all of Michelle's regular customers that Garcia contacted through Michelle's customer service forum. When he has to leave overnight on a case for the first time, she actually has Michelle over to her apartment. When he comes back, Michelle tells him she feels awful since she had one of her nightmares while at Penelope's and she worries that she might think of her as crazy. Garcia, of course, doesn't think anything of that sort and continues to come over as usual and to invite Michelle to 'sleepovers' when he's away.

Michelle stays mostly home for the first month apart from doctor's appointments and her now biweekly meetings with her therapist and he worries that the lack of exercise and sunlight might lead her into a depression. His constant worrying, his intense feeling of guilt along the unpleasantness of being 6 feet 1 and sleeping on a sofa, despite its necessity, are all making it harder and harder for him to sleep properly. That's probably why, when Emily asks him how he's doing when they take the Metro back to D.C. together that evening, that he just start telling her all about his worries. When she asks if there's anything she can do, he just snorts and asks her if she has any trick to make physical and psychological scars disappear? And actually, she comes back to him the next day saying she might have a solution to hide the physical scars at least and place a hatbox in his arms; inside is a nice black fedora hat which Michelle becomes instantly infatuated with.

As soon as she puts it on and asks him tentatively how she looks, a shy, hopeful smile pulling at the corners of her lips, he tells her she looks quite beautiful and she rushes into the bathroom to confirm. When she comes out, she proclaims that indeed she looks pretty nice and he knows that a big step has been made.

Her friends and colleagues, lead by Josh, his wife Tina and Allison, organize a little party for her at the Java Tree to celebrate the doctor declaring her fit to go back to work. They walk together toward the coffeehouse after closing time; they're about thirty feet from the door when he feels her stiffening by his side.

"Is everything okay?" He looks at her, she's breathing fast and shallow breath and her eyes are wide with fear.

"I can't go in there... it's too soon... I can't. Please go tell them I'm sorry but, I can't do it Spencer."

He can tell she feels guilty about her friends planning an event just for her and being unable to make it due to the emotional response linked with memories of her aggressor. He had warned her about this possibly happening but she was feeling so good over the last few days that she wouldn't listen; he truly wishes he could have been wrong this time. The next evening he ends up at a Beltway Clean Cops meeting for the first time in months.

He sits in the park where he used to come and play chess which is just across from her therapist's office when he gets a text from J.J. about a case; her session ends in five minutes and he waits for her and takes her back to their apartment. He grabs his go-bag and as he puts his hand on the doorknob, he feels it and for a moment he wonders if he might be hallucinating. He looks down and it's truly there; her hand on his wrist. She's touching him! He looks up at her as she says: "I love you, just be safe okay? I'll be watching."

As he steps outside, his heart is beating at a million miles an hour; there is hope after all!


	25. One Day at a Time

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 25: One Day at a Time**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He sits on the plane on their way to Atlantic City, simply staring at his wrist, smiling. It's nothing huge, but it gives him hope; the war isn't won, but today is still a great victory. His attention is brought back to the case when Hotch tells him to go back over the post-mortem when they land.

He calls her from the hotel to check up on her and she sounds chipper when she picks up. He asks how her day went and how she's feeling and she tells him that she's feeling pretty good.

"You were right, therapy does help a lot. Oh and by the way, hum, don't be surprised if the apartment smells quite nice when you get back..." She trails off and he can almost hear her smiling.

"You started working again?"

"Hum-hum."

"That's wonderful news!"

She starts telling him about new ideas she had, that she wants to take her website off hiatus and that maybe she could have the orders from before the... event... out by next week. He tells her to take it slow, to remember that today is a good day, but she doesn't know how she'll be tomorrow. She snaps that he should be happy for her and he replies that he is and that he just doesn't want her to crash if the next day or the one after isn't as good. He reminds her, and himself, of first thing he learned when he started going to meetings: 'One day at a time.'

He makes his way to park after landing and texts her that he'll wait for her there until she's done with her session; he plays chess for the first time in well nearly two years and gets absorbed into the game. After the third game against Eric, there's a pretty good crowd around them and he feels someone standing a little too close for comfort, he's about to ask the person to move back when a hand is placed on his shoulder. He looks up and their eyes meet, she's smiling, the fedora on her head hiding her very short hair.

"Sorry about that," he chuckles. "I guess I got a bit distracted, I can be done here in 4 moves."

Eric protests that it can't be and she tells him he's wasting time pointing at the game clock. He plays his moves as quickly as he can, not just so that he can walk her home, but also because it's the first time she sees him play and even after being together for over a year and a half, he still feels a desire to impress her. He wins and the crowd disperses, he introduces Michelle to Eric and they slowly make their way home.

They stop at the market to pick up a few things and a few blocks from their apartment, she slides her hand in his. He almost stops dead in his track but since she's acting like nothing out of the ordinary is happening, he simply follows her lead.

Later on, after dinner, they sit down to watch a movie they have seen many times before and he can tell she's slightly distracted. Halfway through it, as the characters on screen sing about something being up with Jack, he looks at her and she's looking at him.

"Don't move okay?" She asks in a nervous voice, he nods, unsure as to what to expect. "I want to try something but, I don't know if it will work."

She moves closer to him on the couch and bites her bottom lip; she takes a deep breath and slowly leans in toward him. Her lips touch his and his heart rate spikes up; he feels ecstatic and a little light-headed. She's kissing him, it's the first time in close to two months and it's absolutely wonderful.

His hands find her waist and, very carefully as not to alarm her, he pulls her closer. One of her hands makes its way slowly up his arm then up his neck and into his hair and his breathing becomes a little shallower; that probably explains why his brain doesn't make him stop as his hand reaches up and cups her face, his large, fine hand reaching from her cheek almost to the back of her head. She stiffens and pulls away, shaking and he's already apologizing.

"I'm... I'm so sorry... I truly didn't, I didn't think... I just... I miss you so much." He passes his fingers through his hair attempting to calm down his overly stimulated nerve endings.

They try again over the next few nights, going a little further with each one and learning about what triggers her panic attacks; her hair is a big no-no as well as her wrists, the back of her neck is also to be avoided. She has some bad days, but she fights through them and on the days when he feels that intense, burning need to escape, to relapse, she becomes his inspiration to stay strong, to stay sober; she needs him, despite all she says, he knows it is his fault that she is in that situation, and he's not going to let her down again.

He gets off the plane from Wyoming, he puts down his go-bag and frowns at the amount of reports to fill that piled up on his desk, normally writing reports doesn't bother him, but he's drained and all he wants to do is to go home and, hopefully, sleep. Emily sighs as she sits at her desk and he asks where she got that 'Star Puzzle', she tells him it was at the convenience store they stopped at on their way to the airstrip.

"Why?"

"I was just wondering. It's the kind of romantic story Michelle tends to like and I would have gotten..." He trails off, looking for his favorite pen through his bag. When he lifts his head the puzzle is resting on his desk and Emily is looking at him above the partition screen.

"Keep it. You're the only one who'll ever be able to remake it anyway." She says with a wink and a chuckle.

"Are you sure?" She nods in answer. "Thanks!"

He walks into their apartment and he finds her asleep on the couch, she seems peaceful and he makes sure to be as silent as possible. He is putting the clothes from his go bag in the washer when he hears her behind him.

"Hey!" She says in a yawn, her arms wrapping around his waist as she rests her head against his chest. Her hair as grown enough now that even from above, he can barely see the scars.

"Did I wake you?" He asks and she shakes her head no, still holding on to him. He lifts her chin to have her look at him as he adds, his left index moving as he speaks, "I have a surprise for you!"

They sit on the couch and he takes out the star puzzle from his jacket pocket; he explains that Emily told them this story on the plane and he made him think about her.

"There was this young prince," he starts pointing to himself, "who wanted to win the heart of the fairest maiden in the land." He does a little bow toward her and he's pretty certain she blushes a little. "...so he climbed to the top of the tallest tower in the kingdom and he caught a falling star for her," he continues as he stands up and he does a little slight of hand with the star puzzle to make it seem like he just caught it, adding a little more magic to the entire thing and she's beaming. "Unfortunately, he was so excited that he dropped it and it smashed into all of these pieces." He lets it fall on the floor and quickly takes it apart. He's on his knees in front of her as he adds. "So, he frantically put it back together again to prove his undying love to her and he succeeded and they lived happily ever after." And as he says the last word, he finishes putting it back together and holds it up for her.

She leans forward both hands on the side of his face and she kisses him with more fire and passion than she has since the abduction. At some point, he must have dropped the puzzle since both his hands are on her when she whispered three words he didn't know if he would ever hear from her again: "I want you."

That night, for the first time in three months, they spend the night together, in their bed and no nightmare even dares to try and wake them.


	26. Long Over Due

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 26: Long Over Due**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

"Are you sure I look okay?" She stands in front of the bathroom mirror in their hotel room pulling at her royal blue button-down shirt, biting her lips nervously.

"You look great." He says standing behind her as he knots his tie, trying to appear calmer than he is. "Anyway, Bennington doesn't really have a dress code."

She reaches up to caress his cheek, still facing the mirror and he can't help but think about all the progress they made in the last month alone; sure, Michelle still has nightmares at least twice a week and he still goes to meetings to handle the cravings created by his guilt but, they are still holding it together and relying on each other for strength when they're feeling weak.

He makes a quick call to the sanitarium to see if his mother is fit to receive visitors or if she's having a bad day; he went to see her alone the day before, told her that Michelle was in town with him and asked if she would like to meet her. His mom seemed excited about the idea but he still wants to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible.

When they get to the Bennington Sanitarium, a member of the staff tells them his mother is waiting for them in the garden and he can hear Michelle taking deep calming breaths. He gives her hand a gentle squeeze as well as his best reassuring smile and hopes that she can't hear his racing heart. They approach the bench where his mom is sitting, writing in her journals.

"Hi mom," he says after clearing his throat to get her attention. She looks up and smiles; the knot in his throat loosens a little.

"So, this is her, the girl who stole my son's heart?"

"It's wonderful to finally meet you, Mrs. Reid." Michelle takes a step forward, hand extended; she appears calm but he knows her enough to tell how nervous she really is.

"You can call me Diana." His mother replies as she shakes Michelle's hand.

There's an awkward pause and the knot in his throat comes back; he's never been happier to see Dr. Norman than when he approaches them. They chat for a moment and when he turns his attention back to his mother and Michelle, they're in deep conversation about Chrétien de Troyes.

They stay with his mother for a little less than an hour, when he can tell she is getting tired. They get into a cab, heading back to their hotel and he rests his forehead against his palms as Michelle mentions how glad she is that it seemed to go rather well. He feels her hand on his thigh and without even looking up he can tell she's giving him her concern expression.

"Spencer, are you okay?"

"I should have worn sunglasses I think," he says squinting at her. "All that bright sunshine gave me a headache, that's all."

"When we get to the hotel just take out your contacts and take a nap, I'm sure it will pass soon." She passes her hand through his hair as she speaks and he closes his eyes, resting his head on her shoulder as she caresses the side of his head affectionately.

And she's right, after a short nap and trading his contacts for his glasses, his head feels a lot better and he can enjoy the rest of their weekend. They get home late on Sunday night and less than 12 hours later, he and the team are in the air, headed to Edgewood, New Mexico on a multiple abductions/murders case.

After they've discussed the case, Morgan comes and sits down in front of him and pushes a cup of coffee toward him. He can tell what's coming next, the only times Morgan ever brings him coffee is to bribe him into answering some personal questions. He marks his page and closes the textbook he was reading.

"So, how'd it go?"

He had no doubt when he told Garcia he was going to home to Las Vegas with Michelle for the long weekend, so she could put it in the personnel information log, that the team would hear about it. He still feigns not to know what the other man is talking about, even if the fact he's beaming makes it less than believable.

"Come on, man, how did it go with Michelle and your mom?" Morgan asks again, loudly, attracting the rest of the team's attention.

"Yeah, Reid, tell us!" Emily adds from the seat behind him and he sighs, he's got no choice now. He knows all too well how they can absolutely hound someone until they get an answer. Out of the corner of his eye, he can tell that even Hotch and Rossi stop talking are now listening.

"It went incredibly well." He finally says, cheerfully.

Morgan gives him as a broad smile as J.J. tells him how happy they all are for him.

"Now, all you have left to do, is to put a ring around her finger and take her off the market." Adds Rossi in the background, Prentiss tells him not to listen to the guy who 'got married, what? Five times, is it Rossi?', as Morgan hums the Wagner's Bridal Chorus. Fortunately, his embarrassment is stopped by Garcia calling in with more information about their latest victim.

He lies in bed, staring at the ceiling; he moves the bag of ice a little more to the left on his knee and lets out a small groan as the cold starts to numb the pain. He looks at the clock wishing the minutes would go faster as he waits for her to call him back. As if on cue, the phone rings and he quickly answers; since the 'Tara incident' as she calls it, he always feels slightly on edge when he's away.

"Hey!"

"Hi, sorry about earlier, Allison showed up unannounced as I got home from my session... Sean drama again..." Without even seeing her, he can tell she's rolling her eyes. "How was your day?"

"Multiple abductions and murders..." She interrupts him, and asks if he's okay.

"...you sound in pain."

"You know you really could be a good profiler, if you can hear such little subtleties in people's voices like that."

"It's only your voice that I wanna be able to read, my Beautiful Boy." She replies, flirtatiously.

He explains that he had to climb down into a ditch earlier, failing to mention that it was due to the fact that Rossi didn't want to dirty up his new boots. A second later, she's reminding him of the doctor's orders that he is not supposed to do anything that could lead to further injuries to his knee. He tells her that he knows all that, but in his line of work it does happen that one has to go against the doctor's orders. She exhales loudly at the other end of the line and says she just want him to be okay. He knows she means well, but ever since _it _happened, he feels guilty when she tries to protect him rather than the other way around.

They keep on talking for over an hour, he hears her yawning and looks at the clock, it's nearly 1 am in D.C. and he tells her she should go to be.

"Sleep well Spencer."

"You too." As usual, he reminds her to call if she has the nightmare. "I love you."

"I love you too, my Beautiful Boy. Take care of yourself and come home safe."

He hangs up and reaches for the case files next to him. After a few minutes of being unable to do anything but stare at the pages, he set it down and reaches for his phone again. It takes him a moment to figure out how to find a search engine on it and that night he falls asleep, phone in hand, to pictures of shiny silver bands with sparkly stones.

Maybe Rossi's right, maybe it is the next logical step?


	27. Family and Friendship

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 27: Family and Friendship**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

His hair falls down his face and he closes his eyes tighter; her arms are wrapped around his chest, her face presses lightly against his back. He can feel the slow movements of her chest as she breathes; her left hand moves up his arm and he exhales slowly at the touch. Her fingers in his hair calms him a bit, she places a butterfly kiss between his shoulder blades.

"Is it getting a little better?" She whispers against his skin.

He presses his palms against his eyes and groans as answer. It feels like his head is splitting open and it has been that way since he got home from New Mexico the night before. The headache is so bad, he feels like he might vomit. He hasn't been able to sleep that night at all and he is rather certain that his entire body hates him.

He knows she's trying to help, but even her whispers hit his eardrums with the force of a scream and seem to ricochet against the inside of his skull. It's the first time he has a headache this bad and since he refuses to take any kind of pain reliever, he hopes it passes by itself.

After a total of 17 hours, it finally dissipates and he sleeps for the best part of Sunday.

On Tuesday, as he gets up from his desk for an extra cup of coffee, which he'll need if he hopes to finish filling and filing the impressive pile of reports that still require his attention, his phone vibrates in his pocket. He checks the caller ID and is rather surprised to see Michelle's name, he steps outside of the bullpen area before picking up.

"Hey, is everything okay?" He grows more concerned when she doesn't reply straight away; there has been a resurgence in her nightmares lately and he hopes that's all it is when he hears her crying. "What's going on?"

"It's... it's my grandma..." Her father called a few days earlier when her grandmother was taken to the hospital after some tests results gave them bad news. The doctors said she had about a month left, if she decided to stay at hospital and probably less if she refused treatments. "...my dad just called and said that there might be... might be less time than we thought and..."

He tells her he's really sorry to hear that; he doesn't really understand how she feels since all four of his grandparents had already passed away by the time he was three years-old.

"I, I think I need to go say my goodbyes and I wondered..." She sighs; he can tell she's nervous regarding what she wants to ask him. "I wondered if you wanted to come with me, my parents would really like to finally meet you, you know and that would bring some happiness to this situation."

He passes his fingers through his hair and refrains himself from exhaling audibly. This has been problem for a while now; whenever Michelle goes home to see her family, about twice a year, she asks him to come with her even if she knows that the two weeks of personal days he gets a year are always used to visit his mother. They had a few of their larger fights about that exact issue which usually end with an argument similar to 'It's like you want me to be a part of your family but you don't want to make any effort to be part of mine!' on Michelle's front to which he normally retorts that it isn't true but that he doesn't know what it could do to his mom if he starts cutting in their time together and he can't risk that.

"You know, I can't. I'm sorry." He finally replies.

"I'll take the next Greyhound bus up then, I'll call you when I get to Québec."

She replies flatly before hanging up and he can tell she's angry with him as well in pain due to her grandmother's situation. He wishes there was something more he could do, but unfortunately there isn't. He walks back into the office, fills his mug with coffee and walks back to his desk and back to the stack of files waiting for him.

The apartment feels big and empty without her around so he stays at work later than needed; it reminds him of the days back when Gideon and Elle were still around and they would just stay at the office because none of them really had anyone else and it was better than being alone. It feels like a lifetime ago...

She calls him every evening and on Friday near the end of the day, he receives a text: 'It just happened, I might not be able to call you tonight. I love you!'

A few moments later, J.J. informs them of a case and text Michelle as Morgan and Prentiss lament over the lost of their weekend.

'Sorry to hear about your grandmother, pass my condolences to your family. We have a case in Tallahassee, but if you can call, do so. I love you too.'

A few days later, he sits at the Greyhound station, a book on his laps; her bus arrives half an hour late and the smile on her face when she sees him is absolutely worth the wait. She hugs him and he holds her against him longer than necessary; he feels awful for not being there for her during her time of need.

"How's your father coping?" He asks as they drive away.

"As well as can be expected I guess, he's having a hard time but he'll be okay eventually..." She sighs as she takes off her glasses and rests her head against the window. The dark circles under her eyes are even darker than his and he wonders how long it's been since she had a full night of sleep.

"How about you, how are you doing?"

"You know me, I'll be okay... To be honest, the worst part of it was seeing my dad looking so weak and defenseless, well that and having to lie to him..." He raises an eyebrow and she simply says: "He asked how I managed to get a scar on my forehead."

They spend the rest of the way home in silence; she seems lost in her thoughts and he's trying to find the right words to say. They reach their destination and he parks the old Volvo in front of their building. He removes the key from the ignition but doesn't move to get out of the car; she turns to him and asks if there's a problem.

"No, I... I just... I'm sorry," he tries to find the words but for one of the few times in his life he can't, but somehow she seems to understand. She just leans in and rests her forehead against his; her thumb tracing lazy patterns on his neck. She whispers 'thank you' against his lips and he can feel it just as much as he can hear it.

"What for?" He asks in the same way, not wanting to break such an intimate contact.

"For being in my life."

He looks into her eyes before leaning forward to close the same gap between them with a kiss and just as their lips meet, he hears it; his cellphone's text alarm. She pulls away as he gets the blasted object out of his pocket. He checks the screen and it confirms his suspicion; he sighs passing his hands through his hair.

"New case?"

He nods an apologetic smile on his lips.

They empty the car and he grabs his go-bag just in case before heading to the BAU. J.J. tells them about the case and Hotch sends them home to get weather appropriate clothing before they all meet back at the airstrip.

He thinks he's able to keep the appearance of attention while they discuss victimology and the strange change in M.O. even if his mind is miles away. His head rests against the window frame, his legs taking the entirety of the couch-like seat; he looks outside at the clouds passing underneath them.

"I've also put Michelle's number in your speed dial, she's number one, of course!"

He jumps a little as Garcia pushes his legs off the couch to sit by him, she eyes him curiously for a moment before asking if everything's all right. He waves it off and says he was just lost in his thoughts but he can tell she doesn't believe him. She leans forward frowning.

"Reid, what's the matter?"

He bites his bottom lip, he hates putting his problems on anyone else, he checks around making sure that no one else is listening; J.J., Rossi and Hotch are talking amongst themselves, Morgan is listening to his music and Emily feel asleep approximately eleven minutes after they finished discussing the case. He passes his fingers through his hair and rests them on his neck.

"It's Michelle." He whispers and he can see the concern grow on Garcia's face. "Earlier, when I went home to fetch my cold weather clothing, I..." He sighs and rests his head against the wall separating them from the cockpit. "I heard a scream coming from our apartment."

Garcia is staring at him with her mouth slightly opened and panic in her eyes.

"When I walked in the bedroom, Michelle was having one of her nightmares..."

"She told me that was getting better..."

"It is, but this one was particularly vivid and when I finally managed to wake her, she was in such a state of emotional distress and still she wouldn't let me stay with her and..." He clenches his jaws, trying to keep bottled up the waves of emotions crashing around inside him. "...I guess, I'm just feeling guilty and frustrated about being here and not at home taking care of my girlfriend who needs me just as much as the people in Franklin..." Penelope gives him a sad understanding smile as he keeps talking. "You know, I really dislike that term 'girlfriend' it's so vague and undefined. Did you know that the word girlfriend was first used in 1863 and its meaning was 'a woman's female friend in youth'? It's only in 1922, that it started being used to mean a man's sweetheart and now a day there is still confusion about its meaning. There should be a term for someone who you've been living with or have been in a romantic relationship with for a certain period of time..."

His attention is brought back to the now red-headed tech analyst sitting next to him when he hears her laughing. He raises a confused eyebrow and Garcia just tells him to promise never to change; he frowns even more, explaining that it's impossible and she just smiles before standing up and walking toward the back of the plane.

That evening after they learn that the inn they are staying at only has four rooms and Morgan makes it clear that he isn't sharing a room with him; he ends up being the only one without a roommate, which he is actually quite happy about. He sets the alarm clock for 4 am and settles down to sleep.

When the alarm rings, his half asleep brain almost makes him hit the 'snooze' button, but he remembers why he wanted to wake up this early and turns on the lamp on the bedside table. He takes the gigantic satellite telephone and dials the number.

"Hello?"

"Good morning!" He says, his voice still a little harsh from the few hours of sleep.

"Hi! Wait, what time is it in Alaska right now?" He closes his eyes as she speaks, it helps clarify the image of her in his mind.

"Four am." She laughs, and asks if he couldn't sleep or... "...or if I just wanted to be the first person you talk to this morning? The second. How are you doing? Did you manage to go back to sleep after, you know..."

"Yeah, it passed. I'm sorry you had to see me like that again..."

"You don't have to apologize for that at all, you know that." He interrupts her.

She starts asking him questions about Alaska, when the phone goes down; he tries to dial back the number three times before giving up and just staring angrily at the phone for a moment. He's about to just roll back into bed when he hears screaming coming from outside and it sounds like Garcia, he gets dressed in a hurry and runs outside, nearly turning his bad knee on the uneven ground. The pain going through his body stops him dead in his track; he tries to take a step forward only to find out, that his knee definitely needs a moment before he can make his way to the source of the screams.

Hotch passes him running, followed by Emily who quickly asks him if he's okay and he just tells her to go to Garcia. Rossi comes out a moment later and waits with him until he is fit to walk again.

"I thought you were kidding when you said it was still giving you troubles," says the older agent as they slowly head toward to rest of the group.

Before the rest of the sheriff's department joins them for the profile, he tries to call home again, hoping to able to have a few more minutes with her before going back into the world of death and pain that his job pulls him into. When she picks up, he apologizes for earlier and explains what happened.

"...and Garcia stayed with the victim until he died."

"Oh gosh, poor Penelope, how is she doing?"

"I'm not sure, but I would say not to good, since she yelled at Morgan and refuses to come out of her room."

They talks for a few more minutes until Morgan comes by to tell him, they're ready for the profile.

"And say 'Hi!' to your pretty girl for me!" He adds close enough to the phone for Michelle to hear judging by the laugh coming from the other end of the line.

"I guess you heard."

"Yeah, tell Derek, I said 'Hi!' back." Her tone changes from kidding to more serious and affectionate. "I love you. Be careful okay?"

"I will be. I love you too."

On the flight back to Quantico, most of the team sleeps but he and Garcia are still awake. He puts down his fourth book and walks up to her, he doesn't know what to say and despite how he hates feeling like he isn't sure of what to do, he still sits by her.

"Do you want to talk?" He inquires quietly, trying not to wake up J.J. who's sleeping close by.

"Not really." She says, without any of her usual effervescence. "I'm just scared that if I fall asleep, all I'm gonna see is blood."

"I know a thing or two about nightmares," he says, his head tilted to the side and what he hopes is a consoling smile on his lips. "If you want, I can stay here while you try to sleep."

She smiles and slowly settles into a comfortable sleeping position; she removes her glasses and just before closing her eyes, she looks at him one last time.

"Thanks, Spencer."

"Sleep well, Penelope."


	28. What You Fear The Most

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 28: What You Fear The Most**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

He's almost done when she walks into the apartment, just a few more cuts, nearly there. She calls out his name as he finishes; he looks in the mirror, quite happy with the result.

"I'm in here." He calls back, opening the bathroom door.

She's talking about how her, now monthly, therapy session went, when she stops dead in her track and he sees her hand fly up to her mouth as she looks at him dumbfounded. At this point he starts feeling self-conscious and nervously bites his bottom lip before asking her if she likes it.

The question brings her out of her daze and she walks up to him, smiling. She stands quite close to him, observing him from all possible angles.

"Look you amazing, my Beautiful Boy!" She says, before standing on tip toes to kiss, passing her fingers through his now significantly shorter hair.

The next few months are like a strangely emotional rollercoaster. First, they lose J.J. to the D.o.D., he still gets to see her once or twice a month but it's not the same; their family isn't the same and he doesn't do well with change. Then, he and Michelle celebrate three years together and somehow he can't believe it's been that long, it still feels like yesterday when she gave him her phone number but at the same time, it's like he can barely remember a time when she wasn't in his life.

His headaches become more and more embedded in their daily life and with each passing one he sleeps less and less and becomes more and more nervous about what might be causing them. He's still able to hide them at work, which requires more effort with each passing migraine but when he comes home he can't keep the façade up and he can feel himself breaking at seams. Also with the lack of sleep, he slowly gets irritated a lot easier and despite his best effort to keep his frustration contained as much as possible, he slips quite a few times at home. Guilt and tension hover around their relation like a thick cloud and he can't wait for that storm to pass.

After a particularly bad day during which it feels like his head is splitting in two; Michelle tries to make him feel better with little attentions but he just gets annoyed, feeling like she's babying him and they get into a rather nasty argument. They're still angry at one another when he leaves for work that morning. As the day passes, he realizes how ridiculous it was of him to get angry at her for wanting to help him through a tough time.

He sits on the side of his hotel room bed, his head in his hands; he's been biting his lips so much that his bottom one is bleeding. After debating for nearly half an hour, he finally grabs his phone and sends a text: 'Can I call you?'

It takes only a few seconds before his phone rings and he smiles as he looks down at the caller I.D.; he lies down on the bed as he answers.

"Hey." Her voice is more sad than angry and he can easily tell that the fight as been taking its toll on her too.

"Hey, I... I'm so sorry." He sighs, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. "You were just trying to help me and I shouldn't have blown up on you like that."

"I'm sorry too, you asked me to let you deal with this by yourself and I should have respected that. It's just that, it's hard to see you in so much pain and to not be able to do anything, you know."

"I know... It's just... I don't like admitting that something might be wrong with me..."

"I know that, and I know what you're worried about; irritability, trouble sleeping, both are possible early signs when someone might be developing schizophrenia, aren't they?"

"Ho-how do you know that?" He's made sure not to mention any of that to her as to not worry her more, but it seems he underestimated her ability at reading him.

"Google." She replies lightly, as he closes his eyes, hoping that she doesn't think he's going crazy. "And I know that you know this, but maybe you need to be reminded of it, that not all children of schizophrenics become one themselves. I don't remember what was the percentage they said..."

"13% if only one parent suffers from it and I know that but..."

"But it scares you and that's normal, but please Spencer, don't... don't push me away because you're scared. Here for each other through thick and thin, remember? You're not getting rid of me that easily!"

He takes a deep breath, trying to allow her words to remove the weight on his shoulders but unfortunately it seems it's there to stay. He wishes it was that simple, but she has no idea what life could be like if his migraines and other symptoms are really precursor signs to schizophrenia. He's been thinking about it a lot lately, about the possibility of what it might mean for them and he knows he can't allow himself to ruin her life by having her chained to him. He doesn't want her to see him slowly sink into the dark waters of his own mind and that's why he stopped looking at rings. He just couldn't do this to her, she's got too much to live for than to have to live to take care of him. He loves her too much to put her through that and he knows she would stay with him, because she's a caring, kind, wonderful person whose heart is too big for her own good.

"Spencer? Spencer, are you still there?"

He realizes that he got so lost in thoughts that he stopped replying for the past two minutes.

"Hurm, I guess I was miles away..." He chuckles. "I'm sorry what were you saying?"

"I was just asking if you wanted to get J.J., Will and Henry over for brunch this weekend since we haven't seen them in a while and I know you miss her."

He feels tears coming up to his eyes and he can't help but smile; he loves her so much and with good reasons and he worries it might kill him if he has to let her go.

"Yeah I'd like that."

"I should go and try to get some sleep, you should do the same." He agrees, wishing her a good night and telling her he loves her. "I love you too, my Beautiful Boy! Come home safely."

He hangs up and before he even comprehends what is happening his body is shaking as he sobs quietly. If he is, as he fears, starting down the path that scares him the most, he has to love her enough to let her go.


	29. Hypersensitivity

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 29: Hypersensitivity**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

Ashley Seaver joining the team puts an extra, unexpected strain on their relationship. The night after her first case with the team, they all went out and as usual, Michelle joined them. To say that the evening didn't go well would be an understatement; it was the first time he truly got to see her level of insecurity in herself since the 'Tara incident'. She used to be quite self-confident but now that she had to face the fact that a new woman had just stepped into his life, even if it wasn't by his choice, and she did not handle it well.

"Oh yeah, no reasons to worry at all..." She said sarcastically as they got home. "She's just young, athletic, works in your field, even prettier than J.J. and on top of it all she's blonde to make her perfectly your type. Yeah, why do I even worry?"

She threw her coat over one of the kitchen chairs, before stumping her way to the bedroom. He followed her, sighing; Michelle's nightmares had diminished considerably but recently came back with a vengeance and the lack of sleep wasn't doing anything for her mood.

"Why are you being like this tonight?"

"I don't know, maybe because you've been talking about her for the past half hour." She snapped back, not even looking at him as she fought with her shoelaces.

An opened letter on the bed attracted his attention and after he read it; his heart sunk. He looked at the date at the top and suddenly, he understood a lot of what was going on. He walked toward the bed and sat next to her; she wouldn't look at him so he passed the letter in front of her face.

"Why didn't you tell me about this?" His voice calmer than it was.

"You were away last week when I got it. It's not important."

"Not important? Mimi, that's probably what triggered your nightmares." He pulled her closer to him, rested her head on his shoulder and she broke down crying.

"How can they do that, Spencer? How can they release her like that?"

"I don't know, but I won't let her get anywhere near you, I promise."

Tara's release from the psychiatric facility where she was detained, Michelle's nightmares and the stress of his job trigger some of the worst migraines he's had since they began. That's when he starts having very strange and vivid daydreams which, he hopes, are simply due to the lack of sleep.

When he has two in under a week, Michelle begs him to make an appointment with a doctor and after a while, he gives in and does so. He goes to see a generalist who sends him to a specialist for a MRI; he doesn't want that to show in his personnel file at work so after discussing it with Michelle, they come to the conclusion that he has to go on their dime and before work. By that point, he started wearing his sunglasses whenever he wasn't at work, hoping that they will counter balance his hypersensitivity to light and Michelle started making sure to keep only the bare minimal lighting on in the apartment to accommodate him; he even switched from coffee to herbal tea to try and in hope that it would allow him to sleep.

She comes to the hospital with him; her hand never leaves his as they sit in silence in the waiting room, his leg shaking nervously. She rests her other hand on his thigh and he turns his head toward her; her eyes are so full of concern and worries, making him feel even worst about than the pain in his head does.

She leans forward and kisses his temple very lightly; he can't help but feel glad he's wearing his glasses and she can't see his eyes because she might see too much. It scares him how easily she can read him now and, in this moment, he can't let her see how scared and weak he feels; she can't know that he secretly wishes that all of this is some kind of brain tumor or something of that sort because that's something he can accept, something he can come to term with but if it's not... If it's not he doesn't have a clue what he'll do.

His appointment is supposed to be at 7 am and it's now 7:15 and he's getting more agitated with each passing minutes. The nurse finally comes by to let him know they're almost ready for him and to ask him some questions; he says he isn't having any hallucinations because his daydreams can't be hallucinations, they just can't. Next to him, Michelle squeezes his hand tighter.

When the nurse come back to get him, she stands too and walks him to the room. He's about to step inside to get changed into a hospital gown when she stops him, she stares right into his eyes despite the sunglasses, her small hand on his cheek.

"I love you!"

"I love you too."

He barely gets to work on time and the bright, harsh light from hospital made his migraine even worst, which he didn't even think was possible, and it makes him quite irritable. He does try to hide his discomfort as best as he can, but he knows some things are starting to leak through.

When he comes back from Miami, he's worst than ever; the pain in his head is so intense that he's sick on the flight back and he blames it on something he ate when Hotch asks if he's okay. All of his senses are in overload; light feels like he's getting stabbed repeatedly behind his eyeballs, the quietest of whispers is like a jackhammer inside his brain, smells and tastes make him feel like he's gonna vomit again and even the lightest touch is as if someone was rubbing sandpaper onto his skin.

Michelle texts him that his results are in and he replies that he'll head to the hospital after they land. When he heads down the corridor, she's waiting on the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. She walks toward him and wraps her arms around his waist; she quickly lets go when she feels him stiffen at touch, unfortunately used to it by now. Her dark brown eyes filled with worries and fear pinch at his heart and, once again, the guilt washes over him for making her suffer like this.

She quietly asks if he'd rather go in alone and he just shakes his head; he makes an extra effort to show her that he is grateful for her presence by taking her hand despite his discomfort.

"That doesn't make any sense..." He says, frowning, his entire face reflecting his confusion.

"I'm not sure what you want me to say."

"So, there's nothing wrong?" His heart is pounding in his chest, his head feels like it's spinning and he is nauseous again and this time it's not from the migraine. This can't be right, there's no way it can be right.

The doctor tells them that his scans are normal and, out of the corner of his eye, he can see the relief on Michelle's face and somehow it kind of angers him. What is that supposed to mean that she'd rather he was crazy than have something that might be curable? That's when the doctor asks if he considered the possibility of a psychosomatic cause and as soon as the words are out of the man's mouth, his entire body tenses up. This is not happening!

"Listen, I'm not crazy." He says with a much conviction as he can muster which admittedly right now isn't a lot. His breathing quickens, he hears Michelle say that no one said that as she rubs her thumb on top of his hand, probably hoping it will calm him but it doesn't. He can feel a boiling rage taking hold of him. He, Spencer Reid, is NOT crazy and how dare that man suggest otherwise!

"Listen, I have headaches! I have headaches; I have intense sensibility to light because there's something wrong with me physically, not mentally. It's... It's not that!"

"That?"

"Listen, doctor, my mother is a paranoid schizophrenic who's been institutionalized, so I know..." He can barely hear Michelle trying to calm him down but he ignores her. "I know very well what mental illness looks like, maybe even better than you and that's not that! It's not!"

He lets go of Michelle's hand and stand up, grabs his bag and just leave the room. If they want to think that he's losing it, he doesn't want any business with them!


	30. Outro

**Stepping into the Unknown  
Chapter 30: Outro**

* * *

**Author's Note:** This takes place after **Daily Morning Routine**. Since this is part of my first Criminal Minds story, I don't think I am going to go into cases in detail. This will mainly be focus on what Dr. Reid's life outside of work might be like.

I do not own Criminal Minds or Dr. Spencer Reid. I do own Michelle, though.

* * *

The next few weeks are filled with more doctor visits, all telling him what he doesn't want to hear; that physically he is perfectly fine. With each one he becomes more anxious, more upset, more depressed and more irritable. Michelle, of course, does her best to be supportive but he can tell she's walking on eggshells, expecting him to blow up at the smallest things.

Most evenings when he's home, he locks himself up in his office and tries to figure out another possible diagnosis that he hadn't thought of before or another specialist that maybe could find that thing that obviously everyone else is missing; he knows it's hurting her that he just hides away but he can't tell her that unless he finds something he will have to let her go. He can't destroy her life; that simply isn't an option.

The tension in their apartment is palpable and at times it feels almost like living inside a powder keg. He tries as best as he can to keep his calm, but with the pretending at work, the migraines that are now nearly constant and the lack of sleep, he has so little energy that it's nearly impossible to keep up the appearance when he gets home.

That morning, he's getting ready for work; wearing his sunglasses despite the fact that there is no light on in the bedroom. She's sitting on the bed, watching him get dressed.

"You know..." She starts; her voice very quiet and with that overly supportive intonation that he's grown used to since this mess started. Why does she have to be that resilient? She should have ran for the hills by now, but no, she's sticking by him. "...quite a few of the doctors, they... they said it could be stress or... you know emotions that are giving you your headaches... are you sure you don't want me to ask Dr. Jones to see if, maybe, she could start seeing you too?"

He sighs audibly and doesn't reply for a moment, fighting with his tie. She asks if he heard her and he turns to face her, taking off his glasses to make sure she can see how serious he is.

"Michelle, I told you before I have no intention to start talking to your therapist. I'm not crazy!"

"Are you implying that I am?" She replies, already on the defensive. He shouldn't have said that but he really doesn't have strength at the moment to put up a filter on what he says. "Maybe I should remind you that you're the one who recommended her to me in the first place!"

She's standing in front of him now, her voice louder, making his head feel even worst. He closes his eyes and puts his glasses back on, when he opens them again the darkness makes him feel slightly better.

"Yeah, for you! I recommended her for you, not for me, because I don't need a psychiatrist, there's nothing wrong with my brain." He says, sighing, trying to keep his temper under check. These fights have become so ingrained in their lives the past few months that neither of them seems even bothered by the fact that it's 7:30 am and they're already arguing.

"Oh yeah, because the next doctor will probably find something right? Spencer, this has to stop. You need help. I'm trying my very best here to be supportive, but seriously, I can't keep giving and giving if you don't want to let me in. I'm tired of this, tired of the fighting, of the silence. I love you, I want to help you, just let me help!" She walks up to him, standing in front of him, blocking him from exiting the bedroom; he's got no way of fleeing those big, brown eyes filling tears. He looks away but not quickly enough, he still sees her pain, her helplessness and, what hurts the most, her love for him.

"I have to get to work." He mumbles before stepping past her and into the hallway; he grabs his bag by the door and as he is about to step outside he can hear her behind him.

"Yeah, you're good at that..." She says, more for her sake than his, before adding louder. "...because ignoring the problem and not talking about it will magically make it go away, right?"

He doesn't reply and sinply crosses the threshold, closing the door behind him. Once in the corridor, he dries his eyes and takes a deep breath, swallowing the giant knot in his throat. He puts on his emotional mask of normalcy, trying to silence the voice in his head that keeps telling him that he can't wait anymore he has two choices; either he accepts what all the signs point to, lets her in and ruins her life or he need to let her go before he hurts her anymore.

He throws himself into his work, into his happy façade more than usual, trying to block her pained eyes from appearing in his head every time he closes his eyes. Despite everything, he texts her on his way to the airstrip, as usual, letting her know that they're on their way to Louisiana on a case. He doesn't get an answer but he can't say he's surprised.

Working with Sammy takes all of his focus, which is great given the situation; he concentrate his attention and all his energy in helping the boy and it feels good. She hasn't texted back during the day and as he sits in his hotel room, he debates whether he should call her or not. Finally, he just shoves the phone back in his pocket and pulls at his short hair as he rests his head against the desk. He takes the phone back out and pulls up her picture, he just stares at it for a while considering his options.

His fingers glide over the picture, he loves her so much and that has to be why it's so hard for him to even consider letting her go, why he's been postponing it so much. She's better than anyone he could have ever dreamed up, sure, she has her flaws, like everyone, but as a whole, she's more than he could have ever asked for. His head is full of her as he finally manages to fall asleep.

When he finds a way to communicate with Sammy, he feels ecstatic; he can hear her voice in his head telling him he'd make a great dad if he ever decided to, like she did the first time she saw him with Henry. The young boy gives him a new perspective, something he never really considered, maybe it's possible for... for someone with a mental disorder to still lead a, well, maybe not normal but a good life none the less. Maybe he doesn't have to give up on the one woman who chose to get to know him enough to fall in love with him.

When he sees Sammy trying to console his mother, initiating a physical contact for what might be the first time, he makes the decision that regardless of his fears, regardless of everything, as soon as he gets home, he will spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

He purchases the keyboard as a reminder of Sammy and in hope that even if it's not much that the money will help him and his mother. Not his best thought-out plan he has to admit as he wrestles with bulky box in the D.C. subway, even the small tingling behind his left eye, telling him that a headache is probably in his future, isn't enough to bring down his moral right now.

He opens the door and he loses his grip on the keyboard, barely catching it before it hit the floor. He sets it down by the door and when he looks up, his entire expression falls; at first, he think that they've been robbed but then he sees it and he understands. Right there on the kitchen table; his mother's bracelet.

She's gone.

* * *

**Author's Note**: This completes Stepping into the Unknown, thanks to everyone who read, reviewed, followed or favorited it. You are amazing!

Also, a sequel is already in the work so, if you want know what's next, keep your eyes peeled for my new story: '**Maybe This Time**'!

Thank you again for your support,

- Incomplete Stories


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